


Star Warlocks

by new_kate



Category: Merlin (TV), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drugged Sex, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Unsafe Sex, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/new_kate/pseuds/new_kate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: A long time ago (in the 1970s), in a galaxy far, far away, a country boy named Merlin sets out to save a young senator (also a prince) Arthur from the clutches of the nefarious Darth Uther. With the help of a dashing smuggler and her first mate, he rescues Arthur and falls in love with him. But then Darth Uther totally strikes back, and angst ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode Four: A New Trope

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of my love for the original Star Wars trilogy, I cheerfully fuck over all the plot and characters. I'm generally all about Han/Leia, but that's not quite how this worked out.
> 
> Many thanks to [cor-leonis-1961](http://cor-leonis-1961.livejournal.com) for fantastic beta work and to [lolafeist](http://lolafeist.livejournal.com) and [ella_bane](http://ella_bane.livejournal.com) for cheerleading and support, and to [colacube](http://colacube.livejournal.com) for running this crazy fest with poise and grace!

The first time Merlin saw Prince Arthur it was only for a brief moment. It was just a golden-haired blur in a holobeam, a glitchy fluttering image and a voice, tinny, distorted.

"Help me," the man in the recording said, looking right at him - into the camera. "You're my only hope."

And then he was gone.

"He's beautiful," Merlin breathed. "Wait, what was he saying - is he in trouble? Bring him back, show me more!"

The little droid blinked its blue lens and stayed silent. When Merlin reached out to nudge the memory bank with his magic again, the robot screeched and zapped his fingers with a static charge.

"M0RDR3D, don't do that," said the other droid, the bigger one, finished in gold. "Merlin is our master now. You have to obey him."

The little robot rocked on its chassis, looking as rebellious as a bucket-shaped repair droid possibly could.

"You can't stop it," said the golden robot. "It's their destiny."

The repair droid launched into a long series of blinks and chirps that Merlin didn't understand. He put his hands on the droid's warm casing and let his magic flow.

"Sorry," he said, flooding the droid's circuits with his will, taking over. "I don't want to hurt you, but I have to help him. He needs me."

*

The message was meant for old Gaius, a pharmacist at the clinic Merlin's mother ran. Merlin took the droid to him, and they watched the whole thing together. Merlin had seen it half a dozen times already, but it still made him shiver.

"Gaius, please," said the young man in the recording. "Help me. You're my only hope."

He seemed to be in an engine room of a small spacecraft, crouching by the reactor. He held a blaster and spoke urgently, making every word precise and clear.

"We've been boarded by the Imperial troops. Darth Uther is here; I think they want to take me alive."

He shifted his hold on the blaster and Merlin's heart flipped again, like every time he watched this. But the man put the blaster down an reached toward the camera, to open the control panel on the droid's hull.

"They're jamming our comms," he said. "I can't think of anything else to do. I'm loading the intel into this droid's memory, using our old password, and I'm going to jettison it and hope it doesn't get shot down. You have to get the information to the Senate. Make sure they burn all my access codes. And tell my parents... Well. You'll think of something."

And that was the end of the message. The holobeam switched off, and Merlin turned to Gauis.

"Do you know him? Who is he?"

"That's Prince Arthur," the old man said. "Arthur of Deira, Senator of the Albion Republic. I... used to know his family."

"We need to rescue him. I mean, we need to get help. Albion army will save him, right?"

"We will let Albion know what happened to him," said Gaius. "Perhaps they will mount a rescue expedition. I doubt it, though."

"But he's a senator! And a prince!"

"The republican army is spread very thin defending the outer colonies," Gaius said. "You might have noticed that Arthur hadn't asked for help. He knows they can't spare any resources. Besides, for all they know, he's already dead by now."

"Do you think he'd dead?" Merlin asked bluntly. His stomach clenched at the thought, which was just stupid. Dozens of worlds were at war, and people died every day. He didn't even know Arthur. No matter how many times he watched that twenty-second recording, they were complete strangers.

"No. I don't believe Darth Uther would allow that. He doesn't want Arthur dead. He wants him to join the Empire."

"Why?"

Gaius was already unlocking the information from the droid's memory banks, punching in a long security code.

"Well," he muttered. "You're a bright boy, why do you think?"

"Because he's a senator? He has access to secret information. Even if they cancel his access codes, he'll still know a lot of stuff, right? And he has friends in republican army and government... Is Darth Uther going to try to brainwash him?"

Gaius nodded solemnly.

"We have to save him," Merlin said. "Gaius, if we can't get anyone else to help him, we have to do it."

"I suppose you're right," Gaius said. "And if anyone can do that, it would be you, Merlin. I have a friend who might be able to help us."

*

Through all his childhood Merlin had always believed that there would be amazing adventures in his future; that he had a great destiny, a huge part to play in the history of the whole galaxy.

As he got older he started to have doubts. Everyone on Ealdor must have thought that something great would happen to them one day, and all of them would end up spending their whole lives farming and trading and then they'd grow old and die. That was probably going to happen to him, too, if he was realistic about it.

Except, except. Some people of Ealdor actually had led amazing lives. Merlin's mother went to a medical school in Camelot, the capital of the old Kingdom, before it became the Empire and the wars of conquest began. She’d had a lot of adventures there as a student, even though Merlin didn't want to know about his mother having those kinds of adventures. Then she had escaped Camelot with the other war refugees, and fought with the rebel fleet as a field medic, and helped defend the coalition of free worlds that would later grow into the Albion republic. She raised a child all by herself, and then she set up a clinic on this poor farming world, and everyone on the planet knew her name; she'd made a difference in their lives, she was important.

And it turned out that old Gaius had lived quite a fascinating life, too. And it seemed that now it was Merlin's turn: his destiny was calling him, and he couldn't refuse.

He tried to explain that to his mother. He showed her the recording, he'd prepared a speech; he'd been convinced she wouldn't want to let him go, that there would be tears or something equally awful.

"Of course," she said instead, calmly. "Go, fight, rescue that boy, use your magic for good, that's what it's meant for. I always knew this would happen some day. It's in your blood, after all."

*

Gaius's friend had clever suspicious eyes, a pointy stubborn chin and rather stunning boobs. Merlin respectfully eyed their outlines under her thin white shirt, even though the sight was mostly wasted on him.

"Morgana LeFay. This is my first mate Leon," she said to Merlin after she finished hugging Gaius and making happy screechy noises. Apparently Gaius used to work at an orphanage where Morgana and Leon grew up. "I heard you have a job for my Millennium Dragon."

"It's more of a rescue mission," Merlin said. "Although Arthur is a prince, and a senator, I'm sure his family has tons of money. There will definitely be a reward if we save him."

He explained the mission; she listened intently, chewing her red lower lip. Her first mate made some soft sounds that might have been simple grunts or whole sentences in an alien language; Merlin had never seen any creature so tall or hairy, but he tried not to stare.

"This is going to be insanely dangerous," he said. "But - "

"Eh," she waved him off. "I'm sick of little smuggling jobs. I want to do something real. Besides, sticking it to the Empire is always fun. And we can certainly use the money. Momma needs new shoes and a hyperdrive booster."

Leon nudged her and grunted something, pointing toward the bar.

"Ah, speaking of money we don't have at the moment," she said. "Go start the engine. Walk briskly."

They got out of the canteen and nearly crossed the square when they heard the sounds of blaster discharge, and the next moment Morgana shot out of the door, holstering her weapon.

"Start running!" she yelled. Leon picked Gaius up and slung him over his shoulder, and they sprinted to the port.

 

*

Merlin was a decent pilot, but even he couldn't have made a ship dance like that, not without magic. Morgana's hands flitted over the controls almost carelessly, throwing the Millennium Dragon into crazy loops to dodge the meteors in their path. Gaius watched her, frowning.

"Are you still taking the medication I prescribed?" he asked.

"Oh, those pills you had me on when I was little? No, not for ages. I feel fine."

The old man sighed and went to the sleeping quarters for a nap. Merlin sat in the cockpit and watched her navigate the meteor field till they were through and she fired the star drive.

"Morgana, is Leon human?" he asked.

"What? Don't be speciesist."

"I'm not, I'm just curious. I'm from Ealdor, we didn't have many aliens. I've never seen..."

"Ask him then, if you're just curious."

Merlin glanced at the huge bulk of Leon's body where the first mate was crouched by the navigation computer, and decided that questions could wait.

"Your plan is insane," Morgana said. "Not that I don't admire your courage, but this will take more than guts."

"No, I can do this. I'm a warlock."

She gave him an amused glance.

"Seriously? You just walk around telling people you're a warlock? How did you escape the draft so far?"

There were only two options for magic users under Imperial law: to join the Imperial warlock forces, or be executed for dodging the draft. Merlin had known this before he learned to read and tie his shoes.

"I've always kept my magic secret. I'm telling you now because you're helping us save Arthur."

"Still a huge risk."

"He's worth it."

Merlin hauled the little droid over and made it show Morgana the recording.

"Okay, he's kind of hot," she admitted. "In a weirdly disturbing sort of way... Ah, I don't know."

"Do you want to see it again?"

"No, stop fiddling with this droid, you'll damage it. Aw, come here, you cute little thing, what did this big bad warlock do to your circuits? Open up, I'll make it all better."

*

The plan was simple: let the spaceship be detained by imperial security for a routine search, creep inside the base with the help of magic, find and free Arthur, and then run really fast.

It was even easier than they expected. Leon grabbed the storm trooper who came to search their cargo bay, and now Merlin had the uniform. He walked right past most of the patrols, only using magic to distract the ones who looked too vigilant.

He put his hand on the controls of the prison cell door and tried to steady his pounding heart, and then pushed his magic at the lock and forced the door open.

The cell was tiny, just a box with a little bench by one of the walls. Arthur was curled on the bench face-down, hugging himself tight; as the door opened he calmly stretched, rolled over and arranged himself into a lazy sprawl. He still wore the same clothes he had worn in the recording, only now they were dirty and tattered. His eyes were wary, but his smile was cold and arrogant, regal.

"Aren't you a bit skinny for a storm trooper?" he asked.

Merlin ripped his helmet off, then realised he probably had helmet hair and frantically ruffled and smoothed it again. Arthur laughed.

"Shut up," Merlin said. "I came to save you."

Arthur jumped off the bench and ran to the door, and cautiously peeked out.

"Okay, I have to ask," he said. "You and what army, exactly? The republic wouldn't - are you actually here by yourself? Are you totally demented?"

"I don't need an army. I have magic," Merlin said.

Arthur drew a long breath and smiled, and his whole face lit up beautifully. He stared at Merlin in delighted awe and grabbed him by the shoulders, into a half-hug.

"You're a Warlock Knight," he said.

Merlin had heard of the Warlock Knights. Everyone had. They were once the elite peacekeeping force that served Camelot, before Merlin had been born. If they'd still been around, he'd have tried to join them. But when King Uther went mad and accepted the rule of the Empress, most of the Warlock Knights had been slaughtered, their order banned, and those who escaped the purge were hunted down by the imperial forces.

"I'm not, I'm just a warlock," he said, but Arthur wasn't listening. He was gingerly touching Merlin's face, tracing his cold fingertips down Merlin's cheeks.

"I've always believed you were still around," he said. "I just knew. I had this stupid fantasy you might come and get me out of here. It was just about the only thing that kept me going. And you did. Are you real? I can't tell anymore. They've kept me drugged for days, to break me for the mental probe."

His pupils were tiny, and he slurred his words a little. Merlin grabbed his clammy hands and squeezed them tight, almost groaning with guilty pleasure when their palms pressed together.

"I'm real. I'm going to get you out," he promised.

And then the siren sounded, an oppressive high pitched wail that hurt his ears and made him cringe.

"Cameras," Arthur shouted over the noise. "We have to run – what's the escape route?"

"Um, I only know the way I came!" Merlin yelled back. Arthur tried to roll his eyes at that, and it must have made him dizzy because he swayed on the spot.

They ran back through all the patrols; at first Merlin tried to keep them hidden, but the alarm stirred the whole base. Storm troopers kept pouring into their path, and there were too many to distract them all. Merlin shoved them out of the way with his magic, making them clatter to the floor, clumsy in their heavy armour. Arthur picked up a blaster and kept firing, mostly wide useless volleys, his aim ruined by the drugs.

It got hairy very fast, and Merlin took a chance and pulled them into a side corridor that seemed quieter. Almost right away they ran into a raised bridge and halted over the abyss, clutching at each other. Far, far below the plasma engines of the base glowed and rumbled, and the exhaust heat rose even to their height, burning their faces.

Merlin threw his magic over the chasm and carefully stepped off the bridge. His power, stretched through thin air, pulsed under his foot and held steady.

"We can just walk over," he said. "I know it's scary, but trust me."

"I do," said Arthur and suddenly hooked his arm around Merlin's neck and pulled him into a wet, deep kiss.

His mouth tasted of medicine; his lips were chapped and rough, and his tongue was hot and slick in Merlin's mouth. Merlin clung to him and kissed back, helpless to resist. It was all like a fever dream, like a drug-induced hallucination. Since he'd first seen Arthur in that recording he'd been trying his best not to fantasise about this, and now it was happening. The siren and the clanging of storm troopers' armoured feet on the metal floors sounded light years away, and he could do this forever, just hold Arthur close and kiss him till they were both breathless with it.

Arthur abruptly pulled back. He looked wild and wrecked, more drugged than he’d seemed moments before.

"For luck," he said. "Come on."

They ran across the invisible bridge of magic; Merlin was painfully hard inside his armour, and all the metal kind of chafed. His heart pounded, and he was hoping it was from the run, not because he couldn't stop thinking of that kiss and remembering the feel of Arthur's lips on his.

They barrelled into the hangar area; it was cleared of the storm troopers, and Morgana and Leon were defending the Millenium Dragon, shooting short bursts at any sign of movement near the exits.

"Oh wow, what a pile of junk," Arthur panted as they ran across the landing strip toward the open airlock of their ship.

Just then another door opened, and a caped figure in black armour stepped into their path and rose his light sword.

"No," groaned Arthur and skidded to a stop. "Please, no. Please, let us go."

Morgana and Leon were yelling at them from the ship, they couldn't get a clear shot. Merlin whirled in place, trying to figure out an escape, and the sword in the man's hand sang, cutting a dazzling arc through the air, aimed at Merlin's chest.

Arthur grabbed at him to shield him with his body, and Merlin tried to shove him off, out of harm's way. The sword was coming down, and suddenly a wrinkled hand shot out and grabbed the man's armoured wrist.

"Uther," said Gaius, wheezing from the effort it must have taken him to run over. "If you strike this boy down, I will become more cross than you could possibly imagine."

Darth Uther's face was obscured by his black helmet, and it was impossible to tell what he thought of that ridiculous threat. But the sword's sound changed, and the glowing blade went down without cutting into any of them. Merlin grabbed Arthur and Gauis and ran flat out, dragging them after him.

They pushed into the airlock, and Morgana wrenched the ship off the landing strip before they even finished sealing it. From the small window on the pressure door they saw a squad of storm troopers file into the hangar, taking ineffectual blaster shots at their rear reflectors. Darth Uther stood among them, unmoving, quiet; Millenium Dragon accelerated to escape velocity and soon the imperial base was just a speck among the stars.

*

"Okay, this will be yours for the trip," said Merlin, guiding Arthur into a sleeping quarter. It was only a bunk room, barely bigger than the cell had been. Merlin hated the idea that Arthur's first day of freedom would be just like captivity, crammed into a metal box all by himself. Merlin had slept here on the way to the imperial base, and the room was now littered with his dirty laundry, which, in Merlin's opinion, made it look cosy, more like a home, but Arthur would probably find it simply disgusting.

"Millennium Dragon is a cargo ship, so there's not much passenger space," he said, fishing his underwear from under the bed. "I'm going to move my stuff into Gaius's room; we'll share, so you'll have this one all to yourself - "

"No, stay," said Arthur and pushed him against the wall, and kissed him again, softly, slowly. He wrenched his tunic off and dropped it on the floor, to join Merlin's dirty socks.

There was a huge ugly bruise on his shoulder, and more ringing his wrists and forearms, and a mess of green and purple at the creases of his elbows, where his captors had injected him with mind-altering drugs. Merlin touched the marks, trying to be gentle, soothing, and lightly raked his fingers through the blond fuzz on Arthur's chest before he could stop himself.

"Look, you should probably rest," he said. His mouth was dry, and he wanted to kiss Arthur again, to lick and nip at his lips and drink in his breath.

"Not tired," said Arthur and pushed him onto the bed.

He slithered on top of Merlin, big and heavy. His cock was hard, and Arthur rocked it shamelessly against Merlin's belly, grinding down with his hips.

"You saved me," Arthur said, staring down at him hazily. His fingers tightened on Merlin's hands, keeping them pinned to the lumpy mattress, and Merlin bit down a moan and arched to push closer to him. "Warlock Knight in shining armour. Like a dream."

"I'm not a knight - "

"I know you're not. But you should be. I grew up on stories about the Warlock Knights; I always dreamed we could restore the order some day. I want to bring magic back from the darkness. Together, me and you, we can make it happen."

He kissed Merlin again, caressing his mouth with his wet, warm lips, and nudged a knee between Merlin's thighs.

"Oh shit," Merlin twisted against him, trying to break free. He wanted to howl with frustration – this was unfair, so completely unfair. "Arthur, you're still high. Do you understand me? You're high, you don't know what you're doing. I can't, not like this."

"Feels like you can just fine," said Arthur, biting the rim of his ear and languidly rubbing his hip against Merlin's achingly hard dick. "I'm not waiting any longer. There were cameras in my cell; I've not jerked off since they caught me. And then, you... I nearly came when I first kissed you."

"Fuck," Merlin moaned, gritting his teeth. "I can't. You're not... Arthur, don't. You're not in your right mind."

Arthur laughed; he was beautiful like this, with his eyes crinkled joyfully and his mouth red from kisses.

"How long was I there?" he asked.

"Eight days," said Merlin. He’d kept count from the date stamp on the recording; every night he'd gone to bed wondering how Arthur was faring in Darth Uther's hands, how great a toll every day was taking on him.

"Eight days, and they took me off the drugs only twice. I've been high more than I've been sober. I had a mind probe fucking with my brain, and I didn't tell them anything. I didn't even give them my access codes, which should have been cancelled the day I didn’t check in. I was coherent enough to resist torture. You don't think I'm coherent enough to consent to sex?"

"I don't know, I just don't want to risk it. If you feel gross about it afterwards..."

"Shut up," Arthur said and pushed his fingers in Merlin's mouth. Merlin sucked at them frantically, imagining it was Arthur's cock in his mouth, twitching between his lips. His eyes shut from the sheer hotness of the thought, and when he opened them again Arthur had wriggled out of his trousers and was straddling him naked, his cock thick and moist and flushed angry red.

"You'll hate me when you sober up," Merlin mumbled miserably around Arthur's fingers.

"I could never hate you, you moron," said Arthur and drew his wet fingers out, and put them between his legs.

Merlin lay there, weak with want, harder that he had ever been in his life, and watched Arthur - a prince and senator - finger himself open. He knew it was a bad, bad idea, but this might be the only time – Arthur would probably hate him afterwards anyway, just for not putting a stop to it earlier, for letting it get this far...

Arthur yanked his fly open and put his spit-slick hand around Merlin's dick, and Merlin's brain kind of stopped working. Arthur wriggled down on top of him, forcing himself down onto Merlin's cock with soft grunts and sighs, smiling, and Merlin couldn't quite breathe, couldn't say anything, could only stroke Arthur’s warm flanks and stare, and try to memorise this moment forever.

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," Arthur murmured his name like a song, riding him hard, throwing his head back and shivering with pleasure. His muscled thighs strained against Merlin's sides, and Merlin gave in and groped Arthur's perfect arse, feeling for the place where their flesh joined, where everything was hot and slick and tender.

Arthur grabbed his hand and curled Merlin's fingers over his cock, and Merlin babbled something stupid and sappy and stroked him, thumbing at his heavy, tight balls, wishing he was limber enough to put his mouth there. Arthur's warm spunk hit his chest, and Merlin came hard, grinding up into the tight hold of Arthur's body.

They kissed for what felt like hours; Merlin held Arthur close and kept rocking into him till his dick softened and slipped out. He wanted to put his fingers there instead, just to keep feeling how warm and slick Arthur was on the inside, but Arthur sighed and pulled away.

"I should call my parents," he muttered and promptly fell asleep.

Merlin lay by his side till his heart stopped hammering, and then carefully slipped off the bunk. Arthur slept soundly, sprawled on his back. The shadowed place between his spread thighs was reddened with friction, streaked with their come.

"Shit, shit, what have I done?" Merlin moaned, shakily getting dressed. He pulled a blanket over Arthur's naked body and went to the tactical.

Everybody was there - the ship was travelling through hyperspace on autopilot. Morgana was braiding Leon's hair; they both giggled as he came in. They must have heard everything. Merlin had forgotten how tiny and echoing the ship was.

"I see you got your reward," Morgana said. "Just don't forget about ours. We still would prefer money."

Gaius gave him a disapproving eyebrow wriggle, rummaged through the medikit and silently handed him a hypo and two vials. Merlin took them, unable to meet the old man's eyes.

The golden robot was humming a tune, swivelling in a chair.

"Why so glum, young warlock?" it asked. "You've been united with your destiny!"

"What are you even talking about? Fuck, Arthur is going to hate me."

"A half cannot hate that which makes it whole," the robot said.

"I think you're malfunctioning," said Merlin maliciously. "I'll have you serviced at the first stop."

He went back into the sleeping quarters and gave himself a hypo shot. He sat at the bedside, watching Arthur sleep, wondering if he should wake him yet. Arthur looked exhausted, pale and drawn, his skin sheened with sweat; he must have needed rest badly.

Hypo shots barely hurt, after all. Merlin pressed the tip to Arthur's arm and thumbed the button, and got a fierce kick to the side. While he gasped and swayed Arthur surged up and grabbed him by the throat. He halted, blinking away sleep, and his grip went slack.

"Merlin," he said. "But you're Merlin, you saved me, you... Why are you... Were you trying to drug me?"

He must have fought like that every time his jailers came to give him more drugs, even though he had to know it was futile. That explained the bruises and the sloppy, ugly injection marks.

"This is an antiviral shot," Merlin said. "Because – um. Do you remember what we did?"

"Of course I do, I'm not amnesiac," Arthur said and wrapped himself in a blanket as if he just noticed he was naked. "Why - are you sick?"

"No, I'm clean. But it's still a good idea to have a shot after you had sex with someone from another planet, because they might be carrying something endemic that's benign for them but you won't have immunity to..."

Arthur wrinkled his nose.

"You do this a lot, then?" he asked in stilted voice. "You seem very knowledgeable on the subject of fucking around."

"My mom is a doctor, dickhead. Here, do it yourself if you don't want me to."

Arthur pushed the hypo away as if it was poisonous.

"I think I'll risk fleas or nerf flu or whatever you have," he said. "Don't want any more injections right now."

Merlin looked at his bruised arms and nodded.

"The drugs - what did they give you?" he asked.

"You know, it's weird, they forgot to show me the labels!"

"I'm wondering if you're going into detox right now," said Merlin patiently.

"Ah," said Arthur, slightly deflating. "No. Just a bad hangover."

"I'll make you mineral replacements," said Merlin, relieved, and went to mix the powder with drinking water. Arthur watched him from the bed, still wrapped in the blanket like in a cape.

"I don't normally do this," he said. "What we did. That's not how I normally do things."

"Yeah, sure," said Merlin as lightly as he could. He'd seen this coming.

"I guess this is unusual for you, too."

"Well, not really. I grew up in a farming community. There wasn't much to do. Me and my friends would get together and get high, and then someone would inevitably wake up with their best mate's pubes stuck in their teeth. That's just, you know, stuff happens when you're high. Whatever. I promise things won't get weird."

He handed Arthur the mineral drink and gave him a cheerful smile, hoping they'd be able to laugh it off. Arthur's face was stony, and he didn't seem at all amused or relieved.

"Okay," he said. "You may leave."

As Merlin stepped out and shut the door he heard a muttered curse and then the sound of the metal cup hitting the door from inside.

Things were definitely going to get weird.

*

Merlin moped around the ship for a few hours and then went to the tactical to call his mum.

Comm unit was busy. Arthur was talking to a middle-aged couple, a man and a woman. They were holding hands and smiling through tears. Arthur had showered and put on the spare clothes Merlin left out for him. He looked well-rested, bright-eyed, sober and healthy, gorgeous.

"Mum, dad, come on, you know he wouldn't really hurt me - "

"I'll come back," Merlin said, but Arthur's parents had already noticed him.

"Is that Merlin?" asked the woman. "Is this your Warlock Knight, Arthur?"

"He's not a knight," Arthur mumbled uneasily.

"Well," said the man. "Now that the Order is gone and no one can give you the rites and knight you properly, knighthood has become a state of mind, I would say. You certainly live by the code of honour, from what I've heard."

"Uh, thanks," said Merlin, twitching guiltily. "Your Majesties – is that right, is that how I'm supposed to..."

They both laughed light-heartedly.

"We're not royals," the woman said. "Arthur is our adopted son, his title comes from his biological parents. We're just as common as you, Merlin."

"Dad has a spaceship wharf," Arthur said proudly. "And mum was a senator for three terms!"

"Arthur wanted to follow in her footsteps since he was four," said the man and kissed his wife's cheek.

"You must come to dinner, Merlin," the woman said. "Whenever you're in our sector, you're always welcome. We'd love to meet you properly."

They said their goodbyes, and Arthur signed off. He drummed his fingers on the console and gave Merlin a weird, wary glance. Merlin's shirt was tight across his broad chest and shoulders, and the sleeves were a bit long, bunching at his wrists. Merlin stared at his hands and remembered the way Arthur touched him and kissed him, sweetly and urgently like it meant something, like it wasn't just because he was high and horny.

"Sorry about your parents," Merlin said. "Biological parents, I mean. What happened to them? Did you know them at all?"

"My mother died giving birth to me," Arthur said softly. "And my father... he went a bit mad after that. He was in an accident, and then there was dark magic – lots of bad stuff happened. So mum and dad raised me from the start."

"Do you ever see him?"

"Sometimes. It's not... It's never pleasant."

Merlin nodded, imagining Arthur's father, a scarred raving man, locked up in a hospital somewhere. He probably didn't even know who Arthur was when he came to visit.

"I've never met my dad," he said. "Mum wouldn't talk about him. But I think I actually prefer that. I can imagine he's amazing, some kind of great hero or something. Stupid, I know."

"No," said Arthur. "I get it. Sometimes I miss the time when I didn't know mine. Awful thing to say about your own father, but..."

He sighed and his shoulders sagged under the thin fabric of Merlin's shirt. Merlin wanted to put his palms on the tense knots of muscle on Arthur's back and rub and knead till Arthur was relaxed and pliant like he had been in bed, before he passed out in Merlin's arms.

"I wanted to talk to you," Arthur said abruptly. "When we get to Albion... I want you to stay."

"You want me to stay," Merlin echoed, suddenly feeling hot all over. Arthur's eyes were very blue, wide and honest.

"Yes. I need you. I mean, Albion needs people like you. I want to give people with magic a shelter from the Empire, an alternative, an opportunity to fight for their freedom. I think we should restore the order of Warlock Knights. The Republic could really use your help with that."

"You need me," Merlin said. Everything Arthur said skidded over the surface of his mind apart from those words.

Arthur stared at him, slowly turning red. His face flushed so dark his eyebrows looked white.

"What?" he said. "Do you actually think I want to jump on your cock again? No, Merlin, I'm not some glue sniffing farm slut like you and your friends. I bet you can't wait to brag to them that you fucked a senator. You're going to tell them all about it at your next little orgy, aren't you? How I was just begging you for it."

Merlin exhaled slowly, trying to rein in his magic. It prickled at his skin from inside, like it always did when he was this angry.

"I don't think you're a slut," he said. "I think you're a stuck-up, self-absorbed, arrogant prick. Now that I know you I'm sorry I even touched you. That's really nothing to brag about."

"You can't talk to me like that."

"Oh, why not? Because you're a senator? Do you think because some idiots voted for you it makes you somehow superior?"

"Yes!"

They glared at each other; Arthur seemed tense, coiled up, as if he expected Merlin to throw a punch at him. Maybe Merlin looked like he was about to. He certainly felt tempted.

"So," Arthur said gruffly. "Are you going to stay or what?"

"Of course I'm going to stay! I want to fight the Empire, and I don't need your invitation. Or your permission, in fact."

Arthur pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Fine. Let's go get some food. I hope it's not all nerf jerky and dry rations."

*

Even in hyperspace, travel between sectors took a long time. Merlin played board games with Leon, took turns with Morgana monitoring their course in the cockpit, and slept on the floor next to Gaius's bunk.

Arthur spent most of his time downloading and reading news reports: Imperial, Republican and independent, catching up on everything that happened while he was held captive. He worked out relentlessly, doing push-ups on the floor of the tactical room, trying to regain his strength. He ate dry rations with the rest of them, cringing at the taste, and still managed pleasant table talk. He was cordial with Leon, respectful with Gaius, and a total bitch to Morgana for some reason. She gave as good as she got; it seemed that they really liked each other, but couldn’t stop exchanging jabs and insults.

"I don't know," Morgana laughed when Merlin asked her about it. "He's great, really, just annoying as hell. Most of the time I want to punch his stupid face in. But I'm glad I met him. We might sign up for a few months with the Republican army. Could be fun, and Arthur needs someone to keep him on his toes."

Things between Merlin and Arthur didn't get any less weird. Merlin couldn't stop watching him, could barely tear his eyes away from Arthur's perfect face, and almost every time he tried to sneak a glance Arthur would be looking at him with dark unreadable eyes, and he had to turn away, ashamed, blushing. Whenever they stood close, the memory of touching Arthur's naked skin was too vivid, distracting, and Merlin kept seeing himself leaning over to press his lips to Arthur's neck, so clearly it was as if he was already doing it. He couldn't trust himself not to give in, and he tried to keep a distance.

He was horny all day just from being in the same room with Arthur, and then at night he'd dream an endless string of sex dreams. In those Arthur crawled into bed with him again, wanting him, shameless and languid like he was when he was high, and Merlin woke up on the cusp of coming in his underwear, shaking with disappointment. Sometimes he had to leave the room and tiptoe to the shower. Sometimes he would see the lights on in the tactical, which meant Arthur couldn't sleep.

Arthur often couldn't sleep, which was pretty understandable after what he'd been through. A wank and a cold ionic blast settled Merlin down, and then he’d join Arthur to keep him company and fix him something hot to drink.

They didn't talk much, but the silence was strangely cosy. Arthur read, or just reclined in a chair thinking senatorial thoughts, and Merlin stared at the back of his head and remembered how soft and sleek his blond hair was to the touch.

"Are you the youngest senator ever?" he asked once. Arthur looked about twenty-five, if not younger.

"No, something like fourth," Arthur smiled. "In the first days of the Republic, when the free worlds were joining up to fight the Empire, a lot of Resistance commanders were elected to the senate. They were mostly young. It's less common now."

"I guess your whole world voted for you, since you're their prince," Merlin said to make himself sound less soppy. "Not really a proper democratic process, is it."

"My home world isn't in the Republic. Deiar is my world, that's where I grew up, and I'm not a prince there. It's never been a monarchy. And could you stop bringing up my title every five minutes?"

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't mean anything, and I don't like people to even know about it. I don't believe in birthright. It's all about what kind of man you are."

Merlin's chest felt tight, full of something warm and fluttery, the way it did every time Arthur said something cool and noble or looked especially hot. Arthur glanced at him through the fall of his fringe, and this time Merlin couldn't look away.

"I never thanked you," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin sincerely thought that awesome sex had been thanks enough, even if it had led to all the weirdness. It was a lot more than he’d dared to hope for when he set off on that rescue mission. Though sometimes he believed he would give up the memory of that ill-advised tumble if he and Arthur could be close instead, at ease in each other's company.

He and Will had managed to pull through the weirdness after they’d woken up together one morning - hungover, naked and sticky. But they'd both been wasted when that happened, so there was no real embarrassment or resentment. And they had been friends before. Merlin wasn't sure if he and Arthur could become friends now.

"Oh, yeah, that's all right," he mumbled.

"It's not, really, is it? You saved more than my life. And the only reward you're getting for your bravery is being conscripted into the shooting war and put in more danger. Hardly fair. If there's anything you want - "

"I grew up on a farm. It was very safe and incredibly boring. If there's one thing I've always wanted, it's adventure," Merlin confessed. "And I'm probably about to get more adventure than I can handle, so, honestly. Can't think of a better reward."

*

It got worse once they arrived in the capital city. Arthur snapped right back into senator mode, and in his own element he was breathtaking, impossible not to admire, impossible not to want. Merlin had no idea how so many men and women worked beside Arthur every day without turning into gibbering horny fools.

Arthur was effortlessly imposing, commanding attention wherever they went. He knew the name of every person they spoke to, even though they’d met hundreds on the very first day alone: senators, military people, service personnel who served their meals in the senate canteen.

"I'll be busy for a while, so you're on your own," he told them after the general commotion around his miraculous rescue had settled down a bit. "I'll make sure you're given quarters and everything you might need."

"Are you going to see your boyfriend?" said Merlin. It was the clumsiest approach possible, but he couldn't stand it any longer. If he knew Arthur was unavailable, maybe the stupid fantasies and longing would stop.

"I don't have a boyfriend," said Arthur, looking him straight in the eye. "If I did, do you think I'd have cheated on him with you?"

"Well, you were drugged..."

"Exactly, drugged. Not magically transformed into an utter bastard. No, I'll be in meetings all day. We need to discuss the intelligence I brought."

He walked away, and Merlin stared after him, at his strong back and pert arse, and ached, and wanted.

"Close your mouth before you swallow a bug," said Morgana. "Oh, you got it bad, girlfriend."

"Don't fight your desires, Merlin," chirped the golden robot. It'd been trailing after Merlin wherever he went, offering its opinions on everything, and Merlin was seriously considering selling it for scrap.

Gaius went back to Ealdor, saying that he’d had a bit too much excitement for a man his age. Morgana and Leon dragged Merlin around the city, taking in the sights.

When the emergency meeting was called with the whole of the senate and military command, they were all invited as well. Merlin sat in the back row of the magnificent hall and watched Arthur present the plan of attack, calm and unflinching with thousands of eyes upon him, his clear voice easily filling the huge space.

"This is very bold, of course," said one of the older senators when Arthur finished talking. "But if we're to commit to an attack on such a scale, we need more than blind faith in our pilots' skill. The key manoeuvre you're proposing is nearly impossible to perform."

Merlin pushed to his feet.

"Actually," he said. His voice didn't carry, got lost in the enormous room. The people around him fiddled with the buttons at their seats, and he was beckoned to a microphone.

"Actually," he said again, and cringed at how loud it was. Everyone turned toward him, a sea of faces, politicians and war veterans, and he blushed painfully at being on display. "Eh. I was going to say. It would be pretty easy with magic. I'm sure I can do it."

Arthur smiled at him from the podium in the centre, and his eyes shone with pride, and Merlin would happily fight the whole of the Imperial fleet alone if Arthur would just keep looking at him like that.

*

The next day they were on a battle cruiser, hurtling through hyperspace to the main Imperial stronghold.

Merlin wandered the pristine metal corridors, sleepless, shaky. He ended up in the empty mess hall and sat at a table in the dark, trying not to think about tomorrow.

Arthur came in and sat next to him, as if they were still on a tiny cargo ship, just the two of them awake in the blackness of space, light years away from civilisation.

"It's okay to be scared, you know," he said.

"I'm not really. More nervous. If I mess it up tomorrow..."

"You won't."

"Are you not scared at all?"

"I've been in plenty of battles. It's just," he crossed his arms on the table top and pillowed his head on them. The collar of his shirt rode down, exposing the soft curve of his nape, and Merlin wanted to brush away the ends of his hair and press a kiss there. "People will die tomorrow. Maybe it will be us, maybe someone else. But."

"Yeah."

"If we both survive..."

"Yes?"

Arthur sighed and shrugged.

"Eh, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

They stayed there, dozing at the table till the wake up call, and then forced breakfast down their throats and went to the launch area.

All the pilots were stripping in the same room, helping each other change into fighting gear: men and women, old scarred veterans and kids that looked younger than Merlin, in their teens. Merlin took off his clothes, trying not to feel self-conscious about being naked in a crowd of people, and only then realised that Arthur was naked too, right next to him, strapping himself into the flight suit.

"What are you doing?" he asked, unable to decide where to point his eyes. He'd seen all this before, but now, exposed for everyone to see, Arthur's nudity seemed even more tantalising, obscene. "You're a senator. Shouldn't you be somewhere safe?"

"Nowhere is safe," said Arthur and helped him tighten up the buckles, his hands sure and clinical on Merlin's body. "If we lose this battle, the cruiser is toast, and the home world is next."

"But..."

"I volunteered to watch your back. You know. To make sure you don't mess it up."

*

The battle was a mess of light and movement, and for most of it Merlin had no idea what was happening, so he grit his teeth against rising panic and focused on his task. His escort was supposed to keep him alive while he flew into position, and he didn't really know how they were doing that, how could they see the threats and pick their targets in that constantly shifting chaos. Arthur was somewhere out there, cutting a safe path for Merlin to follow, all his trust and hopes pinned on Merlin's magic, on his conviction that Merlin would pull through, wouldn't flinch at the last moment.

When he finally saw the target, it was easy. His magic unfolded readily and shot through the frozen vacuum of space, and just like that the battle was done, the stronghold was crippled, victory was theirs.

He started shaking on the way back, completely botched the landing and crawled out of the cockpit practically on all fours, weak and sweating. The landing bay was full of people, laughing, hugging. There were losses, of course there were. But the time to grieve would be later. Now they were celebrating.

Arthur glowed with satisfaction and a little sweat. His hair was all mussed from the helmet, fluffy and sweet, and he was talking to Morgana, praising her battle skills and asking her to stay on as a flight instructor.

"Admit it, you just don't want to let my gorgeous self out of your sight," she teased.

"Well, I guess you don't know everything about me yet," he said and turned to Merlin, cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.

Merlin dropped his helmet and leaned into the kiss, chasing Arthur's lips. All the want and affection he’d desperately tried not to feel for the last few days uncoiled in his chest at once, and he moaned stupidly into Arthur's mouth, rocking against him, losing his breath at every stroke of Arthur's lips.

Then it ended, and he was standing in the middle of the hangar with his lips wet and his hard cock pressing painfully against the strap of his flight suit. Everyone was looking at them; hundreds of pilots stared, laughed, applauded. He was a spectacle, a joke, his love-sick desperation cruelly put on display. Maybe it was some stupid game between Arthur and Morgana, maybe Arthur just wanted to humiliate him as payback for the time Merlin took advantage of his doped-up state.

Merlin tried to say something, but could only wave a finger in Arthur's face and make stupid whining sounds.

Then he turned and ran.

He stomped through the cruiser for hours, composing an angry speech, and when it sounded cutting enough in his head he went to Arthur's quarters.

The door was ajar, and Arthur wasn't alone. He was talking to someone, rambling in broken sentences – he never spoke like that. He was articulate and eloquent even when on drugs, even half-conscious with fatigue.

"When I first saw him in that cell – I mean, he came to save me. A real life warlock, with magic and his eyes and his mouth, he came to save me, and he stood there, and it was, that one moment, that was the hottest thing that ever happened in my life. And I thought, god. I need to impress him. I'm not some damsel in distress, I'm a politician, a military commander. I was going to woo him and then we'd be – and then I ruined everything. Like an idiot, I did and said just the wrong thing every damn time. And today, in the landing bay – I thought it would be a grand romantic gesture, it would fix everything, I thought he'd like it. And he just walked off and left me there, in front on my men, and I stood there like a jilted buffoon, and everyone felt sorry for me. How am I even supposed to – I don't know. What do I do now?"

"Well," said a familiar synthesised voice. "You need to ask yourself what is more important – your pride or Merlin?"

"Merlin," said Arthur without a pause. Merlin wanted to stay and listen, because he knew he'd never hear Arthur like this again, so open and vulnerable, but it wasn't fair. He wasn't even meant to have heard this much.

He loudly knocked on the door and entered without waiting for an invitation.

Arthur lay on the couch with his palms folded on his chest. Merlin's robot sat in a chair next to his bedside, and the display in its hull blinked, recording the conversation.

"Why are you even talking to this thing?" Merlin asked.

"It has a counsellor module," Arthur said, sitting up.

"A pervert module, maybe! I swear it wants to tape us having sex and then sell the recordings!"

"I would never do that," said the robot. "Who could put a price on something like that?"

"Get lost, creepodroid," Merlin ordered.

"Of course, master Merlin, I shall leave the two of you to talk this out," the robot said and clunked out of the room. Merlin was grateful that its face wasn't articulated; the last thing he needed right now was to see an android leering at them.

"We do need to talk," said Arthur. "Listen - "

"No, you listen," said Merlin and crossed the room, threw his arms around Arthur's warm broad shoulders and kissed him just like he'd always wanted, not holding anything back, putting all of himself into it.

It turned out they didn't need to talk after all. It was perfect just as it was, everything. Even when Arthur left Merlin on that couch, with his lips throbbing from kisses and his cock leaving wet smears on the hem of his tunic, and ran into the bathroom to find something slick, hopping out of his pants, one sock still on – even that was perfect. Even when he pushed into Merlin's body, and at first there was just sting and pain and Merlin could barely breathe with his thighs pinned to his chest – that was perfect, too, because of the sounds Arthur was making, because of the look of pure wonder on his face.

And then they slotted together just right, and it was better than perfect, so good Merlin could cry, and then there was just tingling pleasure and the slow, relentless pumping of Arthur's hips against him, every thrust making something inside him melt and coil at the same time. He pulled Arthur closer and kissed him, biting his lips, leaving marks on his jaw and neck, because everyone knew, Arthur wanted everyone to know, they were together. Arthur was his.

"I'm going to give you a medal," said Arthur later. They’d moved from the come-splattered couch to the bed and messed that up too, and now lay together on the damp sheets, listening to the distant hum of the ship's engines. "I'll push the papers through first thing tomorrow."

"What? Oh, you mean for fighting and stuff."

"Of course for fighting and stuff. For this you're only getting an oral commendation."

He turned and slid down to nuzzle into the crease of Merlin's thigh. His smooth skin gleamed in the harsh lights, the bruises Merlin put on him already purpling, standing out like messy body art.

"I don't want a medal," Merlin gasped when Arthur blew cool air on his soft, exhausted cock, and it twitched right away, straining toward Arthur's lips.

"Yeah, nobody cares. We have to honour our heroes, it's good for morale."

He dipped his head and started licking Merlin's inner thighs with broad swipes of his tongue, slowly inching toward Merlin's balls. Merlin put his hands in Arthur's soft hair, and felt almost like he was floating, bursting with happiness and love.

And then it happened, like waking up from a dream of falling, like catching a distant echo of thunder just on the edge of his hearing. He flinched against a sudden heaviness in his chest, his breath catching, his palms sweaty, his magic thrumming restlessly in his veins.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he said.

"You have a bad feeling about getting a blowjob from me?" asked Arthur, pouting with his swollen lips, but Merlin couldn't even laugh at the joke.

"This is too good. Everything is too good. I think something awful is about to happen."

"We're at war, Merlin. Something awful is always about to happen. But with the victory we scored today – maybe things will change soon."

And Merlin let Arthur ease him back on the bed, and soon he forgot all about that premonition.

*

Uther Pendragon had always been a remarkable man: ambitious, strong, a ruthless, fierce leader. His wife was nothing special, just a simpering girl he’d adored with inexplicable devotion. How ironic that because of her, that meek creature, the fate of the Galaxy had changed forever.

The Empress still remembered the first vision that came to her when Ygraine's belly was just starting to visibly swell. The queen's barren body was forced into an unnatural pregnancy by potent magic, and she was too weak to sustain the power coursing through her, wouldn't survive the labour.

The vision showed her what was going to happen. Uther would blame his wife's death on magic, and would turn on them all, would hunt them down. She saw blood, rivers of it, whole worlds purged and scorched to assuage the king's guilt. She’d been forced to act, to change that future, and she had.

She used the last months of the queen's life to put everything in place, to blame the inevitable death on a conspiracy of the free worlds, to channel the king's anger into conquest. She made Uther believe the free worlds had poisoned the queen in the hope of killing her unborn child, the only heir, to weaken Camelot's rule.

The order of Warlock Knights rebelled against her decision. The close-minded fools only cared about their honour, and would rather die than let her bend the truth a little.

She obliged, and made sure they wouldn't be an obstacle. There were bigger things at stake. Not just their lives, but the fate of magic itself, the future of the Old Religion.

And in the end what had started as a desperate ruse turned into something glorious, unprecedented. Fuelled by her magic and Uther's unrelenting rage, Camelot rose from a humble kingdom to a powerful Empire, and swept across the stars in an unstoppable march, swallowing sector after sector. She became the Empress, no longer standing beside the queen's throne, but a ruler in her own right, and even Uther feared her now. He knew that without her his Empire would fold like an oversized house of cards.

The dark visions wouldn't stop, however. Over and over she saw herself slain by one of her own kind, and the betrayal pained her more than the thought of death. Everything she did was to keep her people safe, and one of them was going to turn on her, just like the Warlock Knights had done. She couldn't abide that, and she worked to bring everyone with magic into the fold, to train them and teach them right from wrong, to put them to work for the Empire and watch them closely, and make sure none would ever think of harming her.

Some were stubborn, and there had to be sacrifices. But that was better than letting one black sheep ruin everything she'd built.

But just when everything seemed to be under control, in perfect balance, another threat emerged. Uther was slipping away from her, slowly but surely. In the beginning she’d used magic to keep his mind on the right track, but no enchantment could hold a man for decades. Her hold on his heart had waned a long time ago. After a disastrous injury in one of the early battles, his body was now half-machine, and there was only so long you could lead a man around by his dick if he didn't have one.

He was getting older, coming to terms with his own mortality, and his thoughts were desperately focused on that child, the last of his bloodline, and it was putting everything at risk.

"You have to give up on him, Uther," she said again. "He will never come around. You've been trying for years to bring him home, and every time you have failed. His mind has been poisoned by the people who stole him from you. They've corrupted him to the core. He will never love you. You will never be able to trust him. It was because of your weakness that the plans of our fortress fell into the rebels' hands, and now they're on the offensive."

"We will recover," he said stubbornly. "And we cannot give up on Arthur. We need him, Nimueh. We need an heir. Don't you understand? Unless we have an heir apparent, a child of the Pendragon bloodline, the throne will be disputed after I'm gone. The old kingdoms will fight each other for succession, and they will tear the Empire apart. The rebels know that. That's why they're still resisting. They think they only need to hold on as long as I'm alive. Only if we crown an heir will the rebels know that the Empire will persist forever, and they will surrender."

It was the truth, but Arthur was a lost cause. She’d seen him the last time Uther had him in custody; he had been drugged, strapped to a chair in the interrogation room, his mind split apart by the mental probe, and still there wasn't a single crack in his conviction, not a single weak spot they could use to make him theirs.

But while she’d been there, on that base, she had felt something else: a surge of untrained, crudely handled power, laced through with familiar notes, the unmistakable echoes of Uther's strength. A child of the Pendragon bloodline, with magic singing in their veins. Someone untainted by the spectre of the dead queen, a lost lamb, someone who could be both hers and Uther's child, someone she could teach, guide, maybe even love.

"Arthur is my only child," Uther said. "That boy is our only hope."

"No," said Nimueh. "There is another."


	2. Episode FIve: Darth Uther strikes back.

After the Imperial stronghold had been defeated, Albion Republic kept pressing the advantage. Dozens of worlds had been taken back from the Imperial occupation, and there was a rumour that some old kingdoms were in secret talks with the Republic. They wanted to splinter from the Empire before it was too late and throw in their lot with the winning side.

"The war could actually be over soon," Arthur said one day, tracing curving patterns on Merlin's naked sweaty back. "I don't want to put it out there officially, but I think it might happen. It's been going on since I was born, and now it could be over. Unbelievable, really."

They'd been bunking together since Merlin first spent the night, and it just kept getting better. Every day, every time was better, more amazing, more sweet, and they couldn't get enough of each other, kept tangling together with the same abandon, trying to get closer, to feel more, to never part.

Merlin was now a commander. He kept meaning to look up what that actually meant and how high on the military ladder he was, but he pretty much did his own thing anyway. He was in charge of a small squad of magic users who signed up to fight the Empire, and he worked with them to use their skills for reconnaissance and diversions, trying to keep them away from the battles. They were almost all older than him, and knew actual spells, and he felt weird telling them what to do.

"We should put someone else in charge," he whined to Arthur at night. They'd been moving from one world to another so fast that they lived exclusively by ship time, and night was often during planet day when they made landings, but he was used to it by now.

"We should stop questioning my judgement," Arthur would say and kiss him silly, and fuck all his doubts away.

They volunteered for the surgical strike on a surveillance installation, because they volunteered for everything. Drunk on sex, they felt invincible, immortal; Merlin felt his magic stretched between them, holding them both in an invisible protective cocoon, and he never even thought that either of them could get hurt.

When he saw Arthur's face pale and harden at the mention that Darth Uther might be at that installation, Merlin realised that they had been using up their dumb luck very recklessly, and it could change at any moment. But they were already geared up, about to set off, and it was too late to pull out now.

"Well, this is a surgical strike, so the team is small," Arthur said. "I'll handle him myself. I have a history with him, I know how he thinks. I'll bring him in alive. That's a great opportunity for the Republic."

Merlin knew not to argue with him in front of everybody. He went straight to their tactical support.

"I don't like it," he said. "I guess he wants revenge or whatever..."

"Look, you've been together for months now, but there still are things about Arthur you don't know," said Lance. "What happened when you'd met – that wasn't the first time. A few years ago, when Arthur had just joined up as a pilot, he was shot down and captured, and Darth Uther kept him in a holding cell for a few weeks. We all thought they would use him as a hostage to bargain with the senate – his mother was still serving a term then. But he escaped."

"How?"

"We attacked the base where he was held; I guess the security system was damaged, and he got out of the cell. Jumped into a pod just before the whole thing blew up. We didn't even know he was in there, he got lucky. What I'm saying is... He wouldn't talk about it, but I'd guess Darth Uther put him through hell. He flinches every time he hears that name. I think – and please, don't tell him this – Arthur wants to challenge him to confront his fears."

Merlin nodded, remembering the last time they faced off with Darth Uther. Arthur had frozen in place then, a blaster hanging limply in his hands. He hadn't even tried to take aim.

"Fine," he said. "Switch our designations. I'm not risking him having a panic attack when his life is on the line. He can face his fears when we have Darth Uther cuffed in an interrogation room. Or, if I don't manage to bring him in alive, Arthur can spit on his corpse."

Arthur would be mad at him later, but he would be safe.

*

The mission seemed very easy and juicy on paper, which of course meant it was bound to go horribly wrong. It turned out to be a trap: their approach was expected, the security was triple what the intelligence had indicated, but the Empire hadn't counted on Merlin's magic, and they pushed through, weren't killed, weren't captured. They split up inside, following the commands of the tactical support, and ran to their marks.

Merlin blasted his way into the control room, and felt a bright surge of rage at the sight of the familiar black figure.

Darth Uther was alone, standing calmly in the centre of the room, waiting.

"Impressive," he said. "I thought you'd be brought in handcuffed. But this is better. Please, take a seat. We need to talk."

"Yeah, the interrogation team will do the talking," said Merlin. "Drop your weapon, on your knees, hands behind your... helmet."

Darth Uther chuckled behind the black visor and took a step toward him.

"Yes, there's no mistake," he said. "You have your mother's eyes."

"What?" Merlin mumbled. This wasn't how the arrest was supposed to go. "How... Um, shut up!"

"Your mother's name is Hunith," said Darth Uther. "She would be forty five by now. She used to be a student in Camelot's Medical Academy, and a regular at the space disco in the low orbit. She was beautiful then. Blue eyes, wide smile, pretty brown curls. A red flower tattoo on her left shoulder, a small scar on her thigh from a rock climbing trip she took after her first year. She was a great dancer. And such a party girl."

"How do you know this?"

"Has she ever told you anything about your father?"

"No," said Merlin. His teeth clattered a short drumroll, and he pressed his jaws together and breathed for a while till he could speak again. "She never, I asked and she wouldn't... She said once that she loved him, but that's it. Do you know who..."

"It's me," said Darth Uther. "I am your father."

Merlin stared at the black surface of his helmet and felt like the floor was going to slip from under his feet, like the whole world was going to tumble down and collapse, because everything that held it together was broken now, and nothing made sense anymore.

"Son," said Darth Uther, extending a gloved hand. "Our destinies lie together. You shall be my heir. Together we will rule the Galaxy..."

Merlin screamed and thrust his magic at him, and threw him into the far wall.

"You bastard!" he yelled, throwing angry volleys of power at the man in black armour. "How could you! Why did you leave her, she loved you!"

"It was only... a moment of passion... two souls meeting..." Darth Uther gurgled, twitching under the blows, and Merlin hit him harder to shut him up.

"You left her, and you started this stupid war! She was crammed in that refugee ship, and then ran under fire on the battlefields, and you didn't even care! And she had to raise me alone – have you any idea how hard it was? She was so tired sometimes she couldn't stop crying, and she had nobody to help her, nobody to lean on! Oh, and that time when I needed a transfusion and she wasn't compatible, and they asked where my father was, and she - "

He stumbled, remembering the terror on his mother's face when they'd thought he would die in that hospital, all because his father wasn't there. Darth Uther tried to sit up and talked again, wheezing with pain.

"Son, I know it's a lot to take in, but you will understand. We have a blood bond, you owe me - "

"I owe you nothing! You left us! You owe me, for every tear my mum ever shed, and I'm going to make you pay. For everything you did to us, and to Arthur, and all the people..."

He was planning to bring Darth Uther in alive; the king of Camelot would make a prized hostage, his capture would cripple the Empire. But his death would do just as well. Merlin pinned him down with his magic and pushed, slowly. He was going to make Darth Uther feel every second of his death.

Darth Uther screamed, and Merlin cringed and grit his teeth and wouldn't let up. Hot anger pulsed through him, a kind of rage he didn't know he was capable of, and his magic felt wild, almost sentient, bent on pain and destruction.

"Merlin!" screamed Arthur's voice, and magic surged and fizzled from Merlin's grasp. Arthur was in the room, staring at the blood seeping through the seams of Darth Uther's armour. For a moment Merlin felt sick, terrified of what he had done. But this was the enemy; this was justified. Arthur would have wanted the same.

Darth Uther was still alive, moving his limbs sluggishly. Arthur walked over and put his hand on the back of Merlin neck, above the collar of his fight suit.

"Please," he said, gently kneading at Merlin's skin. "Don't kill him. Just... leave him. Please. Let's just go."

"What? He's - "

"Merlin, I'm begging you. I know it's wrong. I know it's treason. But, please. For me."

"Why?"

Arthur looked at Darth Uther, breathing noisily through his clenched teeth.

"He's my biological father," he said. "I can't... I know what he is, but I just can't."

Merlin didn't quite remember the next few moments. Arthur pulled him out of the room, and he went, stumbling over his feet, and let Arthur manoeuvre him into their shuttle.

"So Darth Uther wasn't there after all?" asked someone.

"He escaped," said Arthur. "Slippery bastard."

"Are we blowing this thing up or what?"

"From the orbit," Arthur said. "No point taking chances."

Merlin pulled himself to the porthole window and watched the installation shrink to a pinprick on the planet surface. Before they gained orbit he saw a small black fighter shoot out of the roof, and collapsed on the floor, exhausted, nauseous with spent adrenaline.

He and Arthur were alone in the back of the shuttle; the others always tried to give them privacy to talk and make out after a battle. They were always horny after a good fight; they'd be rushing straight to their bunk after docking.

"How long have you known?" Merlin asked.

"Since I was eight," Arthur said. "My parents told me. I'm the prince of Camelot, Merlin. I never wanted anyone to know. I don't know if I can ever explain this to you, but I need you to understand. Please, don't – please hear me out, okay?"

He curled at the shuttle wall and talked quietly, urgently.

"I didn't really believe it at first, I guess. Or never wanted to think about it. Mum and dad were really cool about it, they tried not to judge him in front of me, but I was old enough, I was watching the news. You've no idea what it's like, to know you have blood of a monster in you. To grow up like that, just waiting for whatever made him like that to wake up inside you and eat you whole. And I know I have it all in me. His pride, his anger..."

He fisted his hands in his hair and grunted with frustration.

"I'm not saying this right," he said. "So, first time I met him I was ten. He sent his spies to snatch me from school. He kept me on some spaceship for several days. He kept talking about our bond and destiny, and I just cried all the time, I was so afraid of him. And then he let me go."

"He let you go."

"Yeah. He did every time before last. There were other times. When I was in my teens I actually came to see him a few times. I kept thinking, maybe if I talked to him, you know? Maybe there was still something there. He couldn't be all bad. My mum married him, she must have loved him, right? There must have been something human in him at some point. So I answered his messages and went to the meeting places, and we talked, and he would let me go home afterwards. Last time, when I was eighteen, I told him I was joining the army, to fight his Empire. He said next time we met I would be an enemy combatant, and he would have no choice but to treat me as one, unless I joined him."

He stopped to throw a glance at the cockpit, to make sure the others were out of the earshot.

"So when I was shot down, I thought that would be it. Interrogations, prison camps, maybe execution. But he just... kept talking to me. And when the base came under attack, he let me go again. He put me in a life pod before he went to evacuation shuttles. He said that the Empress has lost her patience with me, and next time there wouldn't just be talking. And yeah, there wasn't. He kept saying this was my last chance, that they would kill me if I didn't stop being stubborn. I don't know. Maybe they would have. Maybe he'd let me go. Maybe he'd have just kept fucking with my head till I didn't know who I was and accepted whatever they told me. I have no idea. Merlin... God, Merlin, say something."

"Like what?" Merlin asked numbly. Arthur grimaced and continued.

"It's like... Look, I love my parents, that's simple. My dad is my real dad, I trust him with everything, I'm proud of him, and I know he loves me. I know when I was missing he and mum barely slept, they were going crazy with worry. I could almost feel it, like we were connected. I have no idea what Uther felt when he kept ordering to give me more drugs and less food. He says he loves me, but that just makes no sense. I know I should hate him. Sometimes I think I do. I never thought of him as my father, really, he's like a crazy uncle you're ashamed of, but he's still family, so you have to bail him out every time and let him sleep on your couch. Well, plus that whole being a dictator bent on conquest part. I guess I keep thinking if I could bring him back somehow, maybe I can save myself from whatever it is that twisted thing in our blood, and I won't turn into him."

They docked with the cruiser and headed to debriefing. Arthur kept hovering by Merlin's side, glancing searchingly in his face.

"Merlin," he said. "I know this changes things. Between us, I mean. But I'm still me. Everything we had, that was all real. Do you think you could – I guess you need time, right? I won't push. I'll wait."

"I need to talk to my mother," Merlin said and ran back into the docking bay, where the Millennium Dragon rested. He didn't want to make the call on the cruiser's network, didn't want to take a chance it would be monitored.

Morgana and Leon still lived in their ship; they felt more comfortable there. They were hanging about in the tactical, and he had to push past them to get to their comm unit. Arthur followed him, too, and now they were all hovering behind his back, breathing down his neck – Arthur looking worried, the others idly curious.

"Go away, this is private," he said.

"No way, this is my ship," Morgana started, and he slammed his magic at them, without even turning, and forced them out of the room, and made the door slam down.

He sent the call request and waited, clutching at the edges of the console till the cheap plastic started to crack under his fingers. When he saw his mum's face, so loved, familiar, smiling, he was sure it was all a lie. It couldn't be true.

"Mum," he said. "When you were in the med school, did you ever go to something called space disco?"

"Oh, that place, in the lower orbit," she laughed. "How did you know? Are there Camelot Academy alumni in the army with you? Have they been telling you embarrassing stories?"

"Yeah, something like that. Do you have a scar from rock climbing?"

"Um, no," she said and he felt a hot rush of relief before he continued. "I was lugging laundry down the stairs and I was kind of high, fell and cut my thigh on the edge of the basket. But I used to tell the boys I liked that it was from rock climbing! Who have you been talking to? Is it Buzzer? God, what was his actual name..."

"Mum... Have you ever met Darth Uther? Did he go to that space disco place?"

"Oh," she smiled. "He wasn't Darth Uther then, you know. He was a young and handsome king..."

"Did you... Did you have sex with him?"

It sounded so ridiculous. She was going to laugh, and then tease him about it forever.

She didn't say anything for a second, and in that second he knew the answer.

"Tell me!" he yelled and slammed his fist on the projector, making her image blink and judder.

"I'm sorry, that's none of your business," she said coldly.

"Oh god, you did. It's true. I don't even know who you are anymore," he moaned and broke the connection.

He opened the door; that took some doing, because he bent it when he'd shut it. Arthur, Morgana and Leon were sat on the floor by the wire exchange. They'd switched into the holosignal and blatantly snooped on his conversation.

"Okay, I've no idea why you're freaking out," said Morgana. "So your mum had sex with Darth Uther. Big deal! Whose hasn't? He really got around in his time. My mum totally slept with him, while my dad was still alive, even!"

"My mother did too," said Arthur with an awful crooked smile. "My biological mother."

"See?" Morgana said, gesturing winningly. "Totally no big deal!"

"I'm his son," said Merlin, and it choked him up for a moment, as if saying it made it real. "He told me that, and now she confirmed it."

They were all quiet for an unbearably long time.

"Well," Morgana said. "Okay. That's a bit... But think! He owes you sixteen years worth of child support payments! With compound interest! He's really rich, can you imagine how much would that be? Oh, and doesn't this mean you're an heir to the Empire? How cool is that?"

"Empire is evil."

"Empire is just mismanaged," she said confidently. "Under a right ruler it could be a great place for everyone to live. You could negotiate peace with the Republic, put the end to the wars – god, so many possibilities!"

Arthur was looking up at him, pale and silent.

"We're brothers," Merlin said, and Morgana finally shut her mouth with a stunned gasp. "So, yeah. This changes things. I'm going to stay here for a while. Like you said. I need time."

He went to the shower unit and got under the spray in his fight suit, and let recycled water seep under the armour and soak the padding. He stood there till Morgana turned off water and lights and started hammering on the door and threatening to cut off the air.

He went to the empty room where he and Arthur had sex for the first time, managed to undress and climbed under the blankets. He wanted to cry, to let out some of that frozen feeling in his chest, but tears weren't happening.

Leon brought him a change of clothes and sat with him for a while. Merlin didn't want to talk, and he still wasn't sure Leon even could speak.

Everything had changed. Everyone he thought he knew – Arthur, his mother, even himself – they were different now, strangers. There was just one person left who he could talk to, who didn't have any horrible secrets tucked up his sleeves.

Merlin stayed in bed for a few hours, staring in the wall, trying to quiet down his mind, and then got dressed and went to make a call.

"Gaius," he said when the man's kindly face peered at him worriedly. "Something happened. I need advice."

Gaius waited patiently, and Merlin tried to put it all into words, and couldn't.

"I always thought my magic was meant for good," he said. "That it meant I had a destiny or something. But what if it isn't? What if I'm a monster? What if all this power will someday turn on the people I love?"

"You're not - "

"You don't know that. Things I did today, things I've learned – there's darkness in me. It's in my blood. I can feel it. I don't know what to do, Gaius."

"You need a mentor," said Gaius after a pause. "This must be a dangerous time for you. You're still so young, and you've been thrown into this war, given all this responsibility. You're still learning to control your magic; you shouldn't be alone in this. Is there someone you can turn to?"

"Well, I have some warlocks here, but I don't know. They all learned from books, they don't know much more about magic than I do..."

"There might be someone," said Gaius. "I have a friend who used to be a Warlock Knight. He escaped the purge, and last I heard from him he was heading to the Ascetir system to hide from the Empire."

"Warlock Knight! I thought they'd all been - "

"Yes. He might be the last one. I pray he's still alive and well. He could teach you a lot."

He was going to leave without a goodbye, but couldn't bring himself to do that to Arthur after all.

They sat in the empty landing bay, a foot of space between them. They hadn't touched since Arthur had pleaded with him for Darth Uther's life.

"I have a brother," Arthur said. "My parents have a son, so he's my foster brother. His name is Kay, he's a pain in the arse. Great kid though. I'd give my life for him, any day, I wouldn't even have to think. But that's not how I feel about you. Thing is... I don't feel any different now that I know we're brothers."

"Me neither," Merlin sighed. "That's kind of the problem."

The silences between them now were awkward, awful, but they couldn't find the right words to fill them.

"I don't even know how I'm supposed to feel about my brother," Merlin said. "My mum has always been my only family."

"I have a big family. Cousins, aunties, uncles. We're all pretty close, but they're not my blood. There's just you and Uther, and you're nothing like brother and father to me. I don't know, maybe it's us, maybe it's in our genes. Maybe we're all fucked up like that."

"Maybe."

"Are you sure I can't come with you? We can take a bigger ship..."

"I need to do this alone."

"Okay. Do what you need to do. I'm going away too. Could really use some downtime. Morgana has a sister, or a half-sister or something; she runs a mining colony. Apparently their main city is some kind of floating construction, with an entertainment complex. She invited us all, thought we'd enjoy that. She got us a bridal suite.... Fuck, this is..."

"Yeah."

"Can't we at least hug before you go? Just hug. Like brothers."

"I don't think we can just hug," said Merlin miserably, and climbed into the cockpit before he could meet Arthur's eyes and change his mind.

*

Ascetir system had just one habitable world, and Merlin circled it a few times, looking for signs of human dwellings. Something was messing up his ship's readings, and he was hoping it was magic, protective wards Gaius's friend had left stretched in the planet's orbit.

The planet was mostly swamp. At the equator it was steaming and bubbling, spitting out clouds of gas. At the poles the mud was frozen at the surface; a thin icy film broke under Merlin's feet when he tried to walk over it and he was plunged into cold muck to his ankles.

He walked through the sickly swamp forests, parting hanging sheets of moss in his way. He crossed lush green valleys that turned out to be a carpet of grass on top, and bottomless pits of deadly mires underneath. He wandered through bare mountainous terrain and called till his voice failed him, and nothing answered, even the echo got lost in the cracks of the crumbling wet rocks.

"I guess he's dead," Merlin told himself, munching on the last of his rations next to his ship. In the last few months he’d gotten used to telling Arthur everything, every thought that went through his head, and the habit would be difficult to break. "Gaius would be so upset. I should at least find the body, bury it properly. Maybe it would be some comfort to him."

"What do you want?" asked a harsh voice nearby.

There was a man sitting in the mud in the middle of the clearing. He looked like he'd been there for hours, maybe for days, unmoving, one with the swamp. He obviously had just snuck up on Merlin, but for a moment it felt like Merlin's eyes had been playing tricks on him, and he should have seen this man every time he crossed this stretch of the swamp.

"I'm looking for a man called Balinor," Merlin said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Balinor," the man drawled and took a drag from a thin joint he was holding. It looked like dry moss rolled in a tree leaf, and the moisture crackled and fizzed against the ember at the end, twisting into blue wisps of smoke. "I've not heard that name in a very long time."

He was dirty, muddy. Mud lay on his skin in comfortable drying layers, looking nourishing and protective, like star screen lotions rich holidaymakers slathered themselves in. His hair was long, threaded through with moss and grass, and his beard hung to his waist, and Merlin could barely see any of his face. The man's clothes were soaked with mud, clinging to his body, but Merlin was sure he recognised the cut and the symbols from the old books.

"Is that you?" he asked. "Are you Balinor, a Warlock Knight?"

"What do you want?" the man asked again.

"Gaius sent me here. Do you remember Gaius? He was your friend. He thought you might teach me."

The man regarded him silently, letting the joint smoulder to nothing in his fingers.

"What do you want to learn?" he asked.

"Everything! About magic, and how to control it, and about Warlock Knights, and the code of honour, and the Old Religion, and how..."

He trailed off; all that sounded stupid, inconsequential. He used to want to learn all that, but that was in another life, when he thought he knew his destiny, when he knew whom he loved and whom he hated, and who he was.

"I want to learn about myself, mostly, I guess," he said, and the man's eyes softened for the first time, as if he was grinning behind the mess of his beard.

"Good start," Balinor said. "Sit."

Merlin walked closer and sat in the mud. It squelched under him, and he shuddered with revulsion, and let it seep through his clothes and lap at his skin.

*

"You're far too old to be taught," Balinor said. "Your mind has formed, you are who you are. If you want to learn you'll have to forget everything you know, free yourself from the shapes and patterns you've been locked into, give up everything you have."

"I can do that," Merlin promised him. He was cold and wet everywhere, and he was getting hungry again. "I don't really have anything. I thought I did, but I feel pretty free now."

"You need to trust me," Balinor said. "For any of this to do you any good, you need to open yourself completely. No questions, no doubts, nothing holding you back. You were supposed to have started training at the age of five, and for the first two years that would be all you'd learn: how to trust your teachers. How to empty your mind of fear and anger, how to let go of your needs and ambitions and become an empty slate, and take in the knowledge you were given. I don't know how long it will take to bring someone like you back to that childhood innocence. Maybe longer than I have left. We'll try something different."

"Tell me your worst secret," Balinor said."Surrender it to me. Tell me about the most shameful thing you've ever felt or done."

Merlin sat in the mud, trying to rub goosebumps off his arms, and stared at this stranger, and felt everything in him rebel at the idea.

"You have to give this to me," Balinor said."Your pride is a broken weapon, it won't do you any good. Lay it down. Your anger is poison within your flesh, it's rotting your guts and chewing through your heart. Spit it out. Your fear is an animal trapped inside you, wordless and dumb. Let it go."

"I yelled at my mum," Merlin told him. "God, I'm such a prick. I've upset her so many times, and made her worry, and made her cry that time when I was sick, and I should love and cherish her, and look after her, and I..."

"That's not what I'm asking of you," Balinor said. "You know she will forgive you. Even as you say this, you know she will forgive you and love you, and there's no consequence to your guilt. You should stop clutching at it."

Merlin did, and the guilt fell off his chest like a weight he'd been carrying, and he felt lighter, smaller, more scared, cold to the bone.

"I killed people."

"You were in a war."

"Yes."

"The shame isn't yours," Balinor said. "It has changed you, and it will eat at you till the last of your days, but that's not who you are. It will never be who you are. The war will end, and you won't be able to define yourself by your rank and number and your places on the battlefields that no longer exist."

Merlin nodded and thought, and knew what he was meant to say.

"I had sex with my brother," he said. His stomach clenched at the words. It sounded ugly, at it pained him to admit. He still didn't know how to feel about it. Every time he thought about Arthur he felt the same simple, physical, unrestrained want and need, and it sickened him, and he couldn't stop.

"Little brother?"

"I think he's a bit older. I don't even know, I never asked how old he was, exactly. We didn't know - when we did that, we didn't know. We'd only just met then. When we let ourselves feel that stuff for each other, we didn't know who we were."

"You know that wasn't your fault, or your folly," Balinor said. "You hold this emotion to your heart as guilt, because you're afraid to admit it's anger."

"Yeah, it is," Merlin nodded. His eyes burned with the tears he'd wanted to spill for days. "It is."

"Let it go," Balinor said. "Shed all that like old skin. Take the pain, feel it, don't be afraid to hurt and bleed. Nothing will change if you let your fears control you. You didn't come here to sit in the mud and be scared of yourself."

"I hate my father," said Merlin and his throat spasmed, forcing his voice into a sob. "I hate my father. He's a monster, and he'll turn me into one. I feel it all now, it's all just been waiting, just sleeping inside me. I never thought I'd want to kill, and torture, and hate so much, and I do. I do. I hate him, and I hate Arthur for lying to me, and I hate my mother for ever letting him touch her, and I hate myself for being like him, for hating the people I love. He's ruined everything. I loved my mum, and now I can't even think about her. Me and Arthur had something beautiful, and now it's ugly and sick, the stuff of gossip and jokes. I don't know how to live like this. I want to claw my father's genes out of every cell of my body, because he's there, in me, and even if I kill him he'll stay there, always. That's what I am. It's what I'll always be."

He was crying, babbling it all out between sobs and snorts, and his tears fell into mud between his knees and made tiny clear rivulets in the muck.

"All right," Balinor said and stood up to pinch a leaf off the nearest tree. "The first thing I shall teach you is how to roll."

*

"Magic," Balinor said. "Is a living force, the very thing that holds the fabric of reality together. It chooses you as its voice, as its vessel. It always does so for a reason. You need to find it. You need to understand what magic wants from you."

Merlin sucked in the smoke from his joint and held it in his lungs, and let it scratch his throat and float through his blood, to his head, melt out through his skin.

"Magic is a gift," Balinor said. "Like every gift the Universe gives you, magic is your responsibility, yours to hold, to nurture, to use. It's more important than you are, and you have to bow down to it and serve it. Only when you surrender your life to your calling will you feel whole, will you be yourself."

Mud squelched through their bare toes. It was warm, rich and glossy, like something edible, a weird alien delicacy.

"Magic is you," Balinor said. "It's your bliss, your home, your purpose. You feel guilty of indulgence every time you do magic, and you feel bereft every moment you don't. Every time you use it wrongly you feel it tearing at you inside, you feel yourself collapse and crumble. Every time you deny it you feel empty and dead. Don't be afraid of it. It won't lead you to darkness. Only you can do that."

"I'm going to be sick," Merlin said. The stars were spinning above him, twisting into a bright tunnel, as if he was about to burst into the hyperspace all on his own, to fall into the sky.

"Don't be afraid of that either."

They ate bugs and slugs, and little orange berries they found in the moss, and smoked joint after joint, giggling at nothing. They built tall castles out of mud, and made trees dance around them, and painted the sky green and yellow.

"Magic is power," Balinor said. "To exercise your power is an instinct, more urgent than self-preservation. The point of our lives is to reach to the very edge of ourselves, to feel where we end and magic begins, and push that boundary, stretch it into infinity. With our every heartbeat we strive to be limitless, endless, one with the Universe.

"Picture the Universe," Balinor said, and Merlin's whirling mind snapped to the task, at once hazy and agile like never before.

He closed his eyes and saw the planet, and the whole of Ascetir system, and the whole of the sector, a crooked line of stars, and then their sleeve of the Galaxy, a home for billions of souls, and then the edge of it, the place where stars churned from dust into fire, being born, and then every Galaxy, everything.

"Now picture yourself," Balinor said, and Merlin did.

He could pinpoint his location, except locations didn't matter when his Galaxy was just a grain of sand in the vastness of cosmos. He was nothing, less than a nothing on that scale, but it was all in his head, so he was the same size as the Universe, and they were flowing into each other, twisted together in a permanent feedback loop.

"Think of everyone who's connected to you. Think of everything you've done, every life you've affected," Balinor said.

Merlin saw his mum, and Will, and all his childhood friends, and he missed them again, and knew they remembered him and thought of him often. He thought of all the new friends he'd made - his squad of warlocks, guys from the army, Morgana, Leon, his useless stupid droids. And then he thought of Arthur, and the thought was beautiful, and it wasn't tainted, wasn't shameful.They were all there, everyone Merlin had ever known and loved, and they were all all connected through time and distance, their joined destinies stretching between them like golden threads.

"Now picture yourself gone," Balinor said.

Merlin cut himself out with a brief thought, and watched the threads snap one by one. His absence left a jagged scar on the fabric of the Universe, and he felt all the pain and grief left in his wake, all at once. He saw his friends' darkened faces, his mum's tears, and he saw Arthur when he'd hear the news, and he saw the look in Arthur's eyes...

He clutched at his chest, screaming, his heart hammering under his fingers.

"Did it hurt?"

"Y-yes," Merlin admitted. The vision wouldn't fade quickly enough, and he was shaking, his mind straining desperately to forget it.

"Good," Balinor said. "That means you're doing everything right."

They stopped smoking and fasted for two days, practicing control and precision, weaving spells of mind-boggling complexity, carefully reshaping the landscape and smoothing it back without disturbing a single blade of grass. They drank dirty swamp water, and it tasted clean, tangy and fresh, full of untold secrets.

Then they ran through the swamp, all out, not pacing themselves, for hours and hours. Balinor was fast and light on his feet, and Merlin couldn't keep up, was wheezing and panting and clutching at his stinging side. His legs went numb with fatigue and then started burning painfully with every step, and he could barely see anything through the dark rings swimming in his eyes, and still they ran. He slipped in mud, stumbled over rocks and tree roots, and got up, and dragged himself after Balinor, sobbing with pain and exhaustion.

He thought he would pass out with his face in the mud, he thought he would die, that his heart would burst and stop, and then something changed. Suddenly he felt fresh and full of new strength. His body was alight with inner glow, and he was weightless, pushing off the mud with his toes. He could fly if he wanted to. He could do anything. His magic hummed and sang inside him, unfurled and open like a flower, straining out, up, to the horizon, to the edge of the Galaxy.

"Magic will give you everything you need," Balinor said. "Spend every drop of your strength, give it all away with every breath, to every cause that you feel worthy, empty yourself, and magic will fill you up again. You only have to trust it. It will nourish you when you're starving, sustain you when you're heartbroken, keep your mind from shattering through the longest night."

They rose a hill from the bubbling mud and made it dry and solid, and parted clouds above them, and lay in the sunshine, laughing into the dazzling sky.

"We are luminous beings," Balinor said. "Not flesh and blood, not this crude matter. Magic is just one of the things that make us divine. Our light is eternal, and it flows between us, from heart to heart, from us to the planet under our feet, and the star it's tethered to, and solar winds carry it to the farthest reaches of the Galaxy. Our minds, our will, our love stream through the space, from star to star. Everything we can imagine we possess, and it's ours forever. With our every thought we change the Universe, its present and future, even past. With our every deed we reshape ourselves, and we weave our destiny from nothing, from stardust and light waves, from the purest magic."

Merlin smiled and sighed, and then slept, and dreamt of nothing but light.

*

"What are you?" Balinor asked.

"I'm Merlin. I don't know. Work in progress, I guess."

"Not a monster?"

"Heh. That was a bit over-dramatic."

They laughed and lazed in the sun, and the swamp breathed around them.

"What do you want to be?"

"I always wanted to be like my mum. She's really cool. She's fearless, and so kind, all the time. I still do, actually. So, well, she slept with some jerk, and she kept the baby, I really don't know what was my problem with that. She loves me so much. I can't be a bad seed. I'm half her. Way more than half. She's my hero, I suppose."

"She sounds great," said Balinor wistfully.

"Arthur is my hero, too," Merlin said shyly. "Not that I want to be like him. He's kind of a dickhead. But he's amazing. I love him. Even if he never wants to fuck me again, it doesn't matter. One way or another, we're family. We'll always be together."

"You'll be all right, kid," Balinor said. "Nothing will ever break you. You'll make your mum so proud."

Merlin opened his eyes and lifted his head. He lay down on bare dry soil, and now he was in a sea of flowers, a fragrant little meadow. All the stems were crisp and fresh, and the petals were delicate, bursting with colour.

"Did I do that?" he asked.

Balinor laughed hoarsely.

"I'm great at this teaching malarkey," he said. "Who knew."

"Have you not taught anyone before?"

"I was never an instructor. I was too young, too angry, too impatient. When the war started, I was just like you."

"What is your most shameful secret?" Merlin asked, surprising himself. "I mean... What do you regret more than anything?"

"I failed to save my brethren. I let myself be led into a trap..."

"That's not it, though, is it?"

"No."

"Tell me," Merlin begged. "I feel like you need to tell me."

"There was a woman I loved. We were going to spend our lives together, have children, be a family. I left her. Every day I question that decision. I thought she'd be safer without me, without the Empire hunting us. But I wonder if I let fear make that choice for me. I was afraid I wouldn't keep her safe if we ran together. That I couldn't keep her happy in caves and mud."

"Things are changing, you know. The war could be over soon. You should go find her."

"She wouldn't know me now. She probably doesn't remember. She'd have married, and had those children we wanted with someone else."

"How long ago was that?"

"Years. Maybe decades. Hard to tell."

"Have you been here since? Balinor, you should get off this rock. It's not good to be alone like this. Even if she's not waiting for you, you could meet someone else."

"I don't want to," said Balinor and rolled another joint, and sparked it with a conjured flame. "This is my place now. This is my penance."

*

Weeks passed, or maybe months, it was hard to tell. Sometimes training would be gruelling, taking him way past what he though were the limits of his endurance. Sometimes Balinor would teach him endless streams of spells till Merlin's mind would recoil and shut down, and the knowledge would flow past his consciousness, sinking deeper, into the cloudy recesses of his brain.

Most of the day he couldn't tell if they were training or goofing around in the mud, getting high and soaking themselves in magic.

There was still a lot to learn, and he didn't want to leave Balinor here alone. But he missed Arthur more with every passing hour, and eventually he couldn't stand it any longer.

He stretched his magic through space, along the golden thread that connected them, and touched Arthur's mind, and felt pain.

He saw Arthur surrounded by storm troopers, strapped to some hellish machine of torture. Arthur bucked against the restraints, screaming, and blood trickled down his lip where he'd bitten through it.

When Merlin came back to himself, Balinor was wiping tears and sweat off Merlin's face with dry clumps of moss.

"What was that?" Merlin asked.

"The future."

"I have to stop it. I have to save him."

He ran back to his flyer, shaking clumps of mud off his feet. Balinor caught up with him effortlessly.

"Merlin, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Me too," Merlin said, struggling to breathe through the restless thrum of magic in his chest. "These premonitions – it's our magic warning us, isn't it?"

"Yes. Something awful will happen if you leave now."

"Something awful will happen either way. I have to help Arthur. He needs me."

"It's a trap, Merlin."

"Of course it's a trap! And he's the bait, and they'll keep hurting him till I come for him. I know this. But I have to – I can't leave him. I have to."

Balinor nodded, and Merlin flung himself at him and pressed against the man's muddy chest.

"Thank you," he said. "For everything. I'll come back for you, I'll take you away from here, back to the people, so you won't be alone. Don't even argue, okay? I'll come back."

"I don't know if you're ready for this. I wish I could convince you to stay. But I understand."

"I wish you were my father," Merlin blurted out and laughed. "God, listen to me. I'm a grown man, I don't need..."

Balinor hugged him back.

"If you were my son," he said. "I would have no regrets about my life."

*

It was a trap, of course. Merlin stood on the metal platform in the floating city, his head level with clouds, surrounded by an army of storm troopers, and tried not to look at Arthur's wrecked, miserable face.

"Don't," Arthur said. "Run."

He was handcuffed, and Darth Uther held him by the neck, wrenching his head back.

"One wrong move, Merlin, and I'll kill him."

"You won't," Merlin said with the conviction he didn't feel. "You need an heir. You need one of us. If you let Arthur go, I will surrender."

"I don't need either of you. I've found my true successor at last. Come, child, show yourself."

Morgana stepped out on the platform, wearing a rich dress, supported by a slight blond woman.

"So, apparently," she said with a thin smile. "When my mum slept with Dath Uther... It's true, we did genetic tests..."

"Why, Morgana?" Merlin groaned, all fight knocked out of him by the sudden betrayal. "Are you after those child support payments? Do you want to run the Empire? Morgana, we trusted you! I thought you were my friend!"

"Don't listen to him, sister," the blond woman hissed. "They're not your friends. They only wanted to use you in their wars, and deny you your birthright. They lied to you. That butcher Gaius helped this boy hone his magic, but he poisoned you with drugs to suppress your power. It wasn't to protect you. It was because they all feared how strong you might become when you could spread your wings."

"He promised me he'd spare both your lives," said Morgana. "This is better than always running and fighting."

"And I will keep my promise if Merlin cooperates," said Darth Uther. "Arthur will stay with us. He will come around eventually. In my heart I believe this."

"Just let Merlin go, please," Arthur muttered. There was a fresh scab on his lip where he'd bitten it in Merlin's vision.

"I can't do that, son. The Empress had a new vision. Merlin's destiny is to kill her, and I can't allow this to happen."

"You promised you'll spare his life!" Morgana yelled. "You promised!"

"He won't be dead," said Darth Uther and pointed at the magical symbols drawn on the floor. "But he will be bound. You will submit to this, Merlin, or Arthur will suffer for your impudence."

Merlin let his magic settle and coil inside him. He was stronger now, more powerful than any of them knew. He could go along with this and bide his time, regroup and wait for a better moment.

He walked over to the symbols. People in Imperial warlock corps uniforms surrounded him, and he waited.

Arthur twisted out of Darth Uther's hold and ran over to him, and pressed a desperate kiss to his mouth. The guards wrenched him back almost as soon as their lips touched, but it was enough, enough for both of them to hold on to.

"I love you," Arthur said as they pulled him away.

"Yeah," said Merlin, grinning shakily. "Awesome timing, dickhead."

Arthur laughed, blinking back tears. His face was the last thing Merlin saw before the binding spell hit him.


	3. Episode Six: This is the Return of the Space Warlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by Jamiroquai. Ironically nobody gets high in this one.

The darkness was all around him, inside him, everywhere. There wasn't anything else in the world, no time, no space, just the eternal stillness and an empty place where he used to be.

It would be easy to lose himself, to surrender the last spark of his will and keep still, like the spell wanted him to. He could barely remember who he was, and the darkness kept pressing on his mind, and every thought hurt, every time he strained against the binding magic it made him weaker, made him fade deeper into nothing.

But there had to be a way back, a way out, and he kept trying. He waded through emptiness, pushing through pain, feeling blindly for something, anything, any kind of guiding light.

And in the end the darkness parted, and his magic sprang free. He still couldn't move, couldn't see anything, but he could sense the flow of the Universe around him, and he knew his purpose, and he knew his name.

He reached for Arthur and felt him close, so close, a golden whirlwind of lifeforce and strength. Arthur was nearby, just where Merlin's body was, and he was scared, he was in danger, he was fighting.

Merlin thrashed against the binding spell, ripping it to shreds, and threw all his magic at Arthur, to keep him safe, to help him.

Then he fell down and skinned his elbow on the stone floor.

He couldn't get up. He was cold, shaking, weak and lost. Arthur was there, and his hands where on Merlin's skin, warming him, steadying him.

"I can't see," Merlin stuttered, blinking against the grey mist. "Are we safe? I can't see anything."

"Your sight will return," said Morgana's voice. "It's a price for breaking the binding spell."

Merlin lunged toward her, trying to gather his magic, and Arthur caught him and held him in a tight hug.

"It's all right," Arthur said. "We're safe, and she's with us."

"And, what, all is forgiven? She'll betray us again! Where are we? Where's Darth Uther?"

"He let us go," said Arthur. "The Empress wanted me dead, and Morgana was scared, she really had no idea what she'd got herself into. So he let us go. I think he kind of loves us, in his own twisted way."

"I wasn't scared," Morgana huffed. "He was going to imprison Leon for fighting against the Empire. I wasn't having that."

Leon grunted something at Merlin's ear and ruffled his hair with a big heavy hand.

"Master Merlin, welcome back!" joyously chirped his robot's voice. "Finally, the two sides of the coin..."

"Oh my god, shut it down!" Merlin yelled, and someone took pity on him and did.

Arthur pulled him up and held him close while Merlin shivered on his weak legs. Blindness made him feel helpless, and he wanted to tuck his face against Arthur's neck and just rest like that for a while.

"The Empress sold you to Aredian; he was a crime boss who had a problem with warlocks. He liked to... do things to them," Arthur explained. "But we got to you before – you're fine now. We killed him. Thanks for that magic, by the way. It was kind of a close shave there for a moment."

Merlin clung to him and felt cold metal under his fingers, a heavy collar around Arthur's neck.

"Oh, what is this, get this off," he said, hating the idea of Arthur ever being restrained again. He broke the collar in two with a twist of his magic and rubbed at the bared warm skin at Arthur's throat. Arthur chuckled and kissed him, and Merlin wrapped his arms around him, feeling skin everywhere.

"What's going on? Are you naked?" he asked, stroking Arthur's bare back and arms.

"No," said Arthur defensively. "I'm wearing a disguise. We had to infiltrate this place, so... "

Merlin slid his hands lower and felt some flimsy strips of fabric, and then metal again, and he put his palms on it, ready to take it off Arthur's body.

"Hey, don't break that!" Arthur protested while Morgana cackled. "That's all I'm wearing!"

Merlin groped around Arthur's hips, trying to figure out the shape and function of the metal contraption there.

"Oh, it's such a shame you can't see him now," Morgana said. "He's basically wearing these tiny metal knickers..."

"It's a chastity belt!" Arthur yelled at her. The metal thing was quite tiny, and didn't cover much.. Arthur's thighs were bare, and his arse was only covered by a trail of silk ribbons. "It's a disguise, and it worked!"

"What the hell are you disguised as?" Merlin asked.

"Virgin love slave," Arthur mumbled over Morgana and Leon's howls of laughter. "Shut up."

"Love slave? Like a... You didn't have to – nothing happened, did it?"

"I'm a virgin love slave! In a chastity belt, hello! Of course nothing happened!"

"It was supposed to happen tonight, so good job we won," said Morgana. "You know he'd do that and more for you, don't you?"

"Oh, don't, I'm still mad at you," Merlin said and let Arthur lead him by the hand somewhere.

*

"So this is what's been happening," Arthur said, gently tugging Merlin along. Merlin could hear Arthur's bare feet softly slap on the stone floor as they walked. "The Empire is pretty much crumbling. Half of the old kingdoms broke off and signed armistice with the Republic. We've been pushing at the Camelot's outer defences, and we're preparing an attack at the homeworld. I'm going to lead a strike team to take the command centre. Careful, there's a corner here."

Merlin leaned on Arthur's naked shoulder and let him navigate the winding path.

"I want to be there, to make sure Uther is taken alive," Arthur said. "I think the Empress has him under her thrall. Maybe if we get him away from her... I mean, he'll be in prison, or in a mental hospital, I guess, for some time at least, but..."

"I can't believe you still want to forgive him," said Merlin. "But I kind of love that about you."

Arthur squeezed his fingers and carried on:

"Gaius also thinks Uther can still be like he used to be. Gaius used to know him before all that happened, it was him who took me away and gave me to my parents. He told me Uther used to be a good man. They were friends. Actually, the way he talks about him, I'm pretty sure Gaius had sex with him too."

"Oh, well, really, who hasn't back then," Merlin shrugged. "Seems like it was the thing to do. It was a crazy time when our parents were young, right?"

"Yeah. So, the Empress is convinced it's your destiny to kill her. I don't actually believe in predetermination, but when we launch that attack - if she sees you there with us, that would be such an awesome way to demoralise her."

"Sure, of course I'm coming with you. Even if I'm still blind."

"Morgana said you'll be fine in a few hours. Ramp here."

Merlin walked up the steep incline, and Arthur put a hand on his head, to guard him from bumping his forehead in the low doorway.

"Where are we?" Merlin asked as the floor under them started to judder and the noise of a ship's engines reverberated through his bones.

"Millennium Dragon, Morgana's ship. I'm taking you home. Well, to the army headquarters."

"Are you sure we can trust her?"

"Yeah. Look, she was in an orphanage since she was ten, and suddenly she learned she was a lost princess. Her crazy sister convinced her to go along with Uther; she obviously thought Morgana, as an heiress to the throne, would be a cash cow for her. But when Morgana saw what they did to us and Leon... That was a rude awakening from all her fairytale dreams. I think she sees things clearly now. Besides, when we depose Uther, one of us will have to take the throne, and I think it should be her. She's the only one who actually wants it."

"Don't you?"

"I have a real job. I don't have the time or inclination to play figurehead on some world I've never been to. Okay, we're in our old room now. Bed is over there."

He guided Merlin's hand to the edge of the bunk and Merlin perched there and pulled Arthur closer.

His blindness, even temporary, was frustrating. He desperately wanted to see Arthur's face, but all he had was Arthur's voice and his skin under Merlin's palms, and Merlin couldn't stop touching him.

"All right," he said, running his fingers over the angles of Arthur's hipbones, to the edges of the chastity belt. "Now with all that out of the way, there's something I really need to know."

"Okay," said Arthur, sounding a little worried.

"What's with this whole virgin love slave thing?"

"It's a disguise, I told you! We found out that Aredian was having a banquet, to show you off to all his creepy friends, so that was going to be our way in. We intercepted the entertainment he'd booked, and took their places. I wish you'd seen Leon's juggling act, he's actually amazing."

"And you were a love slave."

"Well, yes."

"A virgin one," said Merlin and slid his hands under the silk ribbons. Metal straps curved around Arthur's arse cheeks, pinching a little, and he rubbed around them, dipping his fingers underneath.

"Well," Arthur huffed, wriggling under his touch. "That's just, ah. That's just the name of the act. The real virgin love slave, the one who gave me this thing to wear, he was totally a hooker. He explained I was just supposed to dance and entertain and let them grope me a bit, and pretend that Aredian was going to, you know, despoil me after the banquet. Obviously we were going to make our move before that."

Merlin imagined Arthur, his proud Arthur, dancing for a bunch of drunk crime lords almost naked, silk ribbons flying around his hips.

"Did you actually..." he muttered, his hands slipping off the cold metal plate at the small of Arthur's back. "God, did you do all that?"

"Why not, I'm fit and graceful," said Arthur lightly. He caught Merlin's hands and brought them to his lips, gently kissing Merlin's knuckles. "I had to save you. There isn't anything I wouldn't do."

He put his palm on Merlin's cheek, and Merlin turned his face to the touch, closed his sightless eyes and nuzzled into Arthur's hand. The relief of being able to touch him again was immense, exhilarating.

"So," Arthur said. "When you went away – did that help? Was it good for you? Obviously, leaving aside capture and torture and mortal danger... "

"Yes."

"Good. I've been doing a lot of thinking too, while you were gone. I don't want to lose you. So we share some genes, so what? We're only half-brothers, after all. And it's not even a universal taboo. There are plenty of cultures..."

Merlin carefully leaned forward, till his lips met Arthur's skin, and kissed whatever he could reach, whatever he could find by touch: Arthur's stomach, the dip of his solar plexus, the heavy flat muscles of his chest.

"Your nipples taste weird," he laughed, licking them. They felt softer than the rest of Arthur's skin at first, and quickly wrinkled and pebbled under his lips.

"That's glitter," said Arthur breathlessly and climbed in Merlin's lap to kiss his mouth.

Normally they'd be rubbing against each other like that, Arthur's cock sliding warm and thick against Merlin's stomach. Now all Merlin could feel was the smooth front plate of the chastity belt. He put his hand on it and rubbed, imagining Arthur's flesh trapped behind it.

"Are you hard in there?" he asked.

"No," Arthur moaned. "There isn't enough room, I can't actually get hard like this – ah, this is so weird."

He hadn't shaved; soft curls of his pubic hair tickled Merlin's fingers when he ran his hands over the metal edges of the belt. There was just a small thatch on top, where the belt was riding low on Arthur's hips, and more fuzz escaping down below. Merlin dipped his fingers under the edges, feeling Arthur's skin warm and sweaty underneath.

Merlin curled his fingers around the back of the belt, pushing under the straps and strangely shaped joints, and found enough of an opening to dip his fingertips into the cleft of Arthur's arse. He stroked up and down it, skimming the edges of Arthur's hole, and then pushed one sweat-slippery finger in.

Arthur grunted and bucked against him. His naked thighs were tense, shaking.

"You can take it off now," he said. "I locked the door."

"In a bit," Merlin said, digging his finger deeper. "I wonder if you can come like this. Right into this thing. You'd be all sticky."

"Don't," Arthur hissed and clutched at Merlin's shoulders, and rocked on his finger in tiny thrusts of his hips. "Just take it off."

"I wish I could see you," Merlin said and bit down on Arthur's nipple, and Arthur shivered and rode his finger harder.

"I look ridiculous," he panted.

Merlin stroked his thumb between Arthur's legs, around the narrow plate that ran along his perineum, and angled his fingertips under the front plate. He could just about reach Arthur's trapped balls, just enough to tickle them.

"You look beautiful, I just know it. All those people stared at you today, dressed like this, dancing, and they all wanted you."

"Fuck, fuck," Arthur groaned. "It was the most humiliating – take it off."

"But you didn't do this for them. You did this for me. You wore this for me, to save me. They all wanted you, and only I can have you."

Arthur nodded against his hair and went wild under his touch, rutting the metal front of the belt against Merlin's stomach.

"I could touch you through that, with magic," Merlin said and Arthur's stomach shook, tightening.

"Okay, take it off, now, now," Arthur said and Merlin broke the hinges on the belt and tumbled them both on the bed.

Arthur's cock was soft under the plate, and filled out instantly in Merlin's hand. His balls were heavy, drawn up tight; Merlin pinned him down and licked sloppily along Arthur's shaft.

"Poor thing, I'm going to kiss it all better," he cooed. Arthur wouldn't stop thrashing under him, and his cock bumped against Merlin's chin and nose; Merlin wanted to make it slow and languid, but couldn't do it blind, didn't have enough coordination.

He put his mouth around Arthur's cock and sucked, and sucked, humming and drooling and touching everything he could reach: Arthur's legs, knees, elbows, sides. When Arthur came, flooding his mouth, he couldn't swallow it all and went questing for spilled drops, licking Arthur's thighs and stomach. Then he stayed there to nose at Arthur's crotch and breathe in his smell. There were small grooves in Arthur's skin left by the edges and seams of the belt; some were deep enough to find with his fingertips, some so shallow Merlin could only feel them with his tongue. He licked and kissed them all, imagining Arthur's skin flushed and glowing under his touch.

That was the first thing he saw when his sight came back: the gleaming pink of Arthur's skin and dark gold of his pubes.

"I see you," Merlin laughed and stretched on the bed next to Arthur to look at his face. It was still a blur, but he could just about see that Arthur was grinning. He lay there while Arthur gave him a slow, thorough handjob, and stared, blinking away the mist in his eyes. Arthur's face was gradually coming into sharper focus, his features emerged from the blurry haze. Merlin looked and looked, remembering and rediscovering every tiny bit of him: the line of his eyebrows, the shade of his eyes, the curve of his smile.

*

When they docked to the battle cruiser, Merlin still couldn't see more than few yards in the distance. He clung to Arthur's hand on the way out for safety just as much as for the pleasure of it.

"Surprise," said Arthur, guiding him down the ramp and into the docking bay. "Already unbound. He busted out all by himself."

Merlin stared into the blurry line of faces around the docked ship, and then that whole wall of people swayed like a wave and rolled at him.

"Commander!" they yelled, and he only recognised their faces when they piled on him to grab him into an awkward group hug.

"Great, that's two weeks of research completely wasted," grumbled Gilli somewhere in that commotion. "We already painted the runes and everything!"

"He was so scared of undoing the binding spell," cheerfully tattled Freya. "He was afraid we'd injure you."

Gilli huffed and elbowed her, and she swatted him on the head.

"We're throwing a party to celebrate your return, Commander," she said. "Since we missed your birthday, this seems like a good time."

"You don't have to, guys."

"Of course we have to! Twenty one is a big deal!"

"Twenty one," laughed Arthur later when he led Merlin to their quarters. "You little tart, why would you lie about your age? How old are you, really? I won't tell anyone, even though I can't condone falsifying your army records."

"I'm really twenty one. Why, don't I look it?"

"No," said Arthur and stopped, frowning. "You barely look nineteen, actually. But I thought - if we are brothers, you have to be older than me. I guess you could be younger by nine months, if Uther fucked around on his pregnant wife. Which I wouldn't put past him. But you can't be younger by three years."

"Why?"

"Because," Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead. "On the day I was born - on the day my birth mother died - that's when the war had started. That's when Uther led an attack on the order of the Warlock Knights. He was nearly killed in that battle. That's why he's in that life support suit now. He lost a lot of body parts."

"So?"

"A lot of body parts, Merlin! Including those that are pretty necessary for siring bastards at space discos!"

Merlin tried to be offended, but the whole thing was too confusing, and he struggled to figure out what Arthur was getting at.

"So what does this mean?" he asked.

"It means we're both idiots," Arthur sighed. "I blame myself, for assuming you can do basic math. I should have ordered genetic tests the moment you started freaking out. Merlin, if you're twenty one then you were conceived two years after the war had started, and Darth Uther had nothing to do with it. You're not his son. We're not related at all."

"But-"

"You said your mother fought with the first wave of resistance. They were defeated about a year before you would have been born, and the survivors scattered. Where did she go then?"

"Ealdor..."

"Well, that's where you must have been conceived. You father was some nerf herder, and there's no dark secrets there. I'm sure your mother never spoke about him because he was married, or a total scumbag, since he wasn't there to raise you. I don't know if this makes you feel any better..."

"I don't really care," Merlin said after thinking about it a bit. "I'm glad that Darth Uther is not my father, because I want nothing to do with him. I was afraid you'd make me visit him in prison."

"I still might. We're an item, you have to be supportive, you should come with me."

"We'll see. But, apart from that - I've learned a lot lately. I know that I'm me, and you're you, and we're... us. Nothing else matters, really."

Arthur pulled him closer and kissed him. It was the same rough, unquestioning kiss as the first one, on that open bridge in the middle of the Imperial base, Arthur claiming his mouth like he owned it. Merlin grinned into the kiss, melting with pleasure.

Arthur kept kissing him, tonguing at his lips right in the middle of the walkway. They could easily spend half an hour making out like this; they had done in the past, ignoring when people jostled them and whistled at them as they brushed past.

"I need a moment alone," Merlin said, reluctantly pulling away. "I really should apologize to my mum."

*

He was nervous about calling, but then he saw her face and knew she wasn't really angry at him.

"Sorry about the last time, mum," he said.

"It's okay," she said, forgiving him completely like he knew she would.

"I just got so - confused, I guess. Darth Uther told me he was my father. He's not, right? Even though you and him, you know..."

"Oh heavens. Merlin," she said. "I'm a doctor! Did you think I'd conceive a child from a one-night-stand, without running genetic tests first?"

"No..."

"I should have told you about your father," she said. "I always meant to. It was a dangerous secret to tell to a boy, but you're an adult now."

"You don't have to, mum."

"No, you should know where you came from. Merlin, I loved your dad. He was a beautiful, kind, loving man. He had magic, like you do. And he fought against the Empire, like you do now. You're so much like him. Merlin, me and your father were together for two years. We fought in the resistance, and when we were defeated we ran to Ealdor. We were going to start a new life here, be a family. We wanted you so much. We planned for you."

"But if he wanted a family, why wasn't he with us?"

"The Empire caught up with him, and he had to run. If I'd told him you were on the way, I think he would have stayed with us. And then he probably would’ve been killed, and you'd have been born in a prison, and brought up in an orphanage. I'd decided it would be better this way. I pray that he's alive. But even if he's not... I'm grateful for what we had. And I'm so grateful for you."

Merlin nodded and sniffed, and remembered something important.

"Mum, I need you to do me a huge favour. Could you hire a ship and go to Ascetir system? I know it's pretty far, but I really need you to do this. There's a man living there in the swamp, he's all alone. He's been there for a long time. I think he's depressed, he doesn't want to leave. I worry about him. Could you find him and convince him to go back to normal life? I mean, you're a doctor, you could explain it's not healthy to sit in the mud for years getting high on funky moss. And I think a woman who had convinced me to do my chores can convince anyone to do anything."

"I could try, I suppose," she said. "At least I could offer medical help if he needs any."

"Thanks, mum. He's my friend, he really helped me when I needed it, so please – maybe he could stay in my room till we finish up here, and then I'll come home and help him find a new place and something to do. I know it's a lot to ask, and when you see him you'll probably think: oh, hell. He's not had a wash in years and his beard is like a habitat for woodland creatures, but he's great, really."

"Well, he's your friend, it's all I need to know," she said simply.

Arthur poked his head in the room and waved.

"The party is good to go, everyone's just waiting for you - oh, hello."

"Come here," Merlin said and pulled him into the room. "Mum, this is Arthur."

"Hi," said Arthur, fidgeting weirdly. "Hello. Hi. Did Merlin tell you I'm a senator? I'm a senator! And my family has a spaceship wharf on Deira. We're quite wealthy."

"Um, how nice for you?" Merlin’s mum offered with a confused smile.

"Oh, that sounded like I'm bragging, I'm not! I just want you to know I'm very eligible."

"All right, thank you for that," she said politely, and Arthur turned to Merlin and glared.

"You haven't told her, have you? Great, Merlin. Way to make me look like a tool!"

"Arthur's my boyfriend, mum," Merlin explained and took Arthur's hand. Hunith looked at them with strangely shiny eyes, and then pressed a hand to her mouth and laughed.

"Oh, baby," she said. "You're so grown up. Oh, that's wonderful, I'm so happy for you. How long has this been going on?"

"Since he rescued me," Arthur said. "That kind of thing really turns a guy's head, you know? I want you to know that my parents adore him and I really hope you'll approve of me, too. I know you probably miss Merlin, of course you do. My parents miss me so much, and they have my brother with them, and you only have Merlin. But I was hoping that after the war he would stay with me, on Albion's home world. We'll visit you a lot, I promise. And when my term in the senate is over, we'll see, maybe I won't stand again, maybe we could come and live with you for a while. Farming sounds fun!"

"It really isn't," Merlin said and waved his mum goodbye.

"She seems nice," said Arthur after the connection was terminated.

"What's wrong with you? I've never seen you babble like that."

"I want her to like me. It's important," said Arthur with fierce conviction, as if he was about to argue a plan of campaign with the senate.

"Dork," said Merlin and pulled him into a hug, and stroked his tense back. "Of course she'll love you. You're amazing."

Arthur grinned against the side of his neck and affectionately palmed Merlin's arse.

"Okay," he said. "Ready for new adventures?"

"Hell yes. Always."

"First things first, though. We have to attend your party. Looks like it's going to be pretty awesome. Your warlocks are baking you a cake, and rumour has it, Leon has prepared a speech."


End file.
